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HARRIET 


The  Moses  of  Her  People 


Farewell,  ole  Marster,  don't  think 

I'm  going  on  to  Canada,  where  all  de  sla-v^es^ai 


SARAH    H.  .BRADFORD 


"Jesus,  Jesus  will  go  wid  you, 

He  will  lead  you  to  His  throne, 

He  who  died  has  gone  before  you, 

Trod  de  wine-press  all  alone." 


NEW  YORK 

PUBLISHED    FOR   THE   AUTHOR   BY 

GEO.  R.  LOCKWOOD  &  SON 
1886 


Copyright,  1886, 
By  SARAH   H.  BRADFORD. 


PREFACE 


The  title  I  have  given  my  black  heroine,  in  this 
second  edition  of  her  story,  viz.:  The  Moses  of 
Her  People,  may  seem  a  little  ambitious,  con- 
sidering that  this  Moses  was  a  woman,  and  that 
she  succeeded  in  piloting  only  three  or  four  hun- 
dred slaves  from  the  land  of  bondage  to  the  land 
of  freedom. 

But  I  only  give  her  here  the  name  by  which  she 
was  familiarly  known,  both  at  the  North  and  the 
South,  during  the  years  of  terror  of  the  Fugitive 
Slave  Law,  and  during  our  last  Civil  War,  in  both 
of  which  she  took  so  prominent  a  part. 

And  though  the  results  of  her  unexampled  hero- 
ism were  not  to  free  a  whole  nation  of  bond-men 
and  bond-women,  yet  this  object  was  as  much  the 
desire  of  her  heart,  as  it  was  of  that  of  the  great 
leader  of  Israel.     Her  cry  to  the  slave-holders,  was 

^     ever  like  his  to  Pharaoh,  "  Let  my  people  go  !"  and 

3 


4  Preface. 

not   even   he   imperiled  life  and   limb  more  will- 
ingly, than  did  our  courageous  and  self-sacrificing 

friend. 

I 

Her  name  deserves  to  be  handed  down  to  pos- 
terity, side  by  side  with  the  names  of  Jeanne  D'Arc, 
Grace  Darling,  and  Florence  Nightingale,  for  not 
one  of  these  women,  noble  and  brave  as  they  were, 
has  shown  more  courage,  and  power  of  endurance, 
in  facing  danger  and  death  to  relieve  human  suf- 
fering, than  this  poor  black  woman,  whose  story  I 
am  endeavoring  in  a  most  imperfect  way  to  give  you. 

Would  that  Mrs.  Stowe  had  carried  oijjL  the  plan 
she  once  projected,  of  being  the  historian  of  our 
sable  friend  ;  by  her  graphic  pen,  the  incidents  of 
such  a  life  might  have  been  wrought  up  into  a  tale 
of  thrilling  interest,  equaling,  if  not  exceeding  her 
world  renowned  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin." 

The  work  fell  to  humbler  hands,  and  the  first 
edition  of  this  story,  under  the  title  of  "  Harriet 
Tubman,"  was  written  in  the  greatest  possible 
haste,  while  the  writer  was  preparing  for  a  voyage 
to  Europe.  There  was  pressing  need  for  this 
book,  to  save  the  poor  woman's  little  home  from 
being  sold  under  a  mortgage,  and  letters  and  facts 


Preface.  5 

were  penned  down  rapidly,  as  they  came  in.  The 
book  has  now  been  in  part  re-written  and  the  let- 
ters and  testimonials  placed  in  an  appendix. 

For  the  satisfaction  of  the  incredulous  (and  there 
will  naturally  be  many  such,  when  so  strange  a  tale 
is  repeated  to  them),  I  will  here  state  that  so  far  as 
it  has  been  possible,  I  have  received  corroboration 
of  every  incident  related  to  me  by  my  heroic 
friend.  I  did  this  for  the  satisfaction  of  others, 
not  for  my  own.  No  one  can  hear  Harriet  talk, 
and  not  believe  every  word  she  says.  As  Mr.  San- 
born says  of  her,  "  she  is  too  real  a  person,  not  to 
be  true." 

Many  incidents  quite  as  wonderful  as  those  re- 
lated in  the  story,  I  have  rejected,  because  I  had 
no  way  in  finding  the  persons  who  could  speak  to 
their  truth. 

This  woman  was  the  friend  of  William  H. 
Seward,  of  Gerritt  Smith,  of  Wendell  Phillips,  of 
William  Lloyd  Garrison,  and -of  many  other  distin- 
guished philanthropists  before  the  War,  as  of  very 
many  officers  of  the  Union  Army  during  the  con- 
flict. 

After  her  almost  superhuman  efforts  in  making 


6  Preface. 

her  own  escape  from  slavery,  and  then  returning  to 
the  South  nineteen  times,  and  bringing  away  with 
her  over  three  hundred  fugitives,  she  was  sent  by 
Governor  Andrew  of  Massachusetts  to  the  South 
at  the  beginning  of  the  War,  to  act  as  spy  and 
scout  for  our  armies,  and  to  be  employed  as  hos- 
pital nurse  when  needed. 

Here  for  four  years  she  labored  without  any  re- 
muneration, and  during  the  time  she  was  acting  as 
nurse,  never  drew  but  twenty  days'  rations  from 
our  Government.  She  managed  to  support  herself, 
as  well  as  to  take  care  of  the  suffering  soldiers. 

Secretary  Seward  exerted  himself  in  every  pos- 
sible way  to  procure  her  a  pension  from  Congress, 
but  red-tape  proved  too  strong  even  for  him,  and 
her  case  was  rejected,  because  it  did  not  come  un- 
der any  recognized  law. 

The  first  edition  of  this  little  story  was  published 
through  the  liberality  of  Gerritt  Smith,  Wendell 
Phillips,  and  prominent  men  in  Auburn,  and  the 
object  for  which  it  was  written  was  accomplished. 
But  that  book  has  long  been  out  of  print,  and  the 
facts  stated  there  are  all  unknown  to  the  present 
generation. 


Preface.  7 

There  have,  I  am  told,  often  been  calls  for  the 
book,  which  could  not  be  answered,  and  I  have 
been  urged  by  many  friends  as  well  as  by  Harriet 
herself,  to  prepare  another  edition.  For  another 
necessity  has  arisen  and  she  needs  help  again  not 
for  herself,  but  for  certain  helpless  ones  of  her 
people. 

Her  own  sands  are  nearly  run,  but  she  hopes, 
'ere  she  goes  home,  to  see  this  work,  a  hospital, 
well  under  way.  Her  last  breath  and  her  last  ef- 
forts will  be  spent  in  the  cause  of  those  for  whom 
she  has  already  risked  so  much. 

For  them  her  tears  will  fall, 

For  them  her  prayers  ascend; 
To  them  her  toils  and  cares  be  given, 
Till  toils  and  cares  shall  end. 

S.  H.  B. 
Letter  from  Mr.  Oliver  Johnson  for  the  second 
edition  : 

New  York,  March  6,  1886. 
'My  Dear  Madam  : 

I  am  very  glad  to  learn  that  you  are  about  to 
publish  a  revised  edition  of  your  life  of  that  heroic 
woman,   Harriet  Tubman,  by  whose  assistance  so 


8  Preface. 

many  American  slaves  were  enabled  to  break  their 
bonds. 

During  the  period  of  my  official  connection  with 
the  Anti-Slavery  office  in  New  York,  I  saw  her  fre- 
quently, when  she  came  there  with  the  companies 
of  slaves,  whom  she  had  successfully  piloted  away 
from  the  South  ;  and  oftened  listened  with  wonder 
to  the  story  of  her  adventures  and  hair-breadth 
escapes. 

She  always  told  her  tale  with  a  modesty  which 
showed  how  unconscious  she  was  of  having  done 
anything  more  than  her  simple  duty.  No  one  who 
listened  to  her  could  doubt  her  perfect  truthfulness 
and  integrity. 

Her  shrewdness  in  planning  the  escape  of  slaves, 
her  skill  in  avoiding  arrest,  her  courage  in  every 
emergency,  and  her  willingness  to  endure  hardship 
and  face  any  danger  for  the  sake  of  her  poor  fol- 
lowers was  phenomenal. 

I  regret  to  hear  that  she  is  poor  and  ill,  and  hope 
the  sale  of  your  book  will  give  her  the  relief  she  so 
much  needs  and  so  well  deserves. 

Yours  truly, 

Oliver  Johnson. 


Preface.  9 

Auburn  Theol.  Seminary, 
March  16,  1886. 
By  Professor  Hopkins 

The  remarkable  person  who  is  the  subject  of  the 
following  sketch,  has  been  residing  mostly  ever 
since  the  close  of  the  war  in  the  outskirts  of  the 
City  of  Auburn,  during  all  which  time  I  have  been 
well  acquainted  with  her.  She  has  all  the  charac- 
teristics of  the  pure  African  race  strongly  marked 
upon  her,  though  from  which  one  of  the  various 
tribes  that  once  fed  the  Barracoons,  on  the  Guinea 
coast,  she  derived  her  indomitable  courage  and  her 
passionate  love  of  freedom  I  know  not ;  perhaps  from 
the  Fellatas,  in  whom  those  traits  were  predominant. 

Harriet  lives  upon  a  farm  which  the  twelve  hun- 
dred dollars  given  her  by  Mrs.  Bradford  from  the 
proceeds  of  the  first  edition  of  this  little  book,  en- 
abled her  to  redeem  from  a  mortgage  held  by  the 
late  Secretary  Seward. 

Her  household  is  very  likely  to  consist  of  several 
old  black  people,  "  bad  with  the  rheumatize,"  some 
forlorn  wandering  woman,  and  a  couple  of  small 
images  of  God  cut  in  ebony.  How  she  manages  to 
feed  and  clothe  herself  and  them,  the  Lord  best 


10  Preface. 

knows.  She  has  too  much  pride  and  too  much 
faith  to  beg.  She  takes  thankfully,  but  without 
any  great  effusiveness  of  gratitude,  whatever  God's 
messengers  bring  her. 

I  have  never  heard  that  she  absolutely  lacked. 
There  are  some  good  people  in  various  parts  of  the 
country,  into  whose  hearts  God  sends  the  thought, 
from  time  to  time,  that  Harriet  may  be  at  the 
bottom  of  the  flour  sack,  or  of  the  potatoes,  and 
the  "  help  in  time  of  need  "  comes  to  her. 

Harriet's  simplicity  and  ignorance  have,  in  some 
cases,  been  imposed  upon,  very  signally  in  one  in- 
stance in  Auburn,  a  few  years  ago;  but  nobody  who 
knows  her  has  the  slightest  doubt  of  her  perfect  in- 
tegrity. 

The  following  sketch  taken  by  Mrs.  Bradford, 
chiefly  from  Harriet's  own  recollections,  which  are 
wonderfully  distinct  and  minute,  but  also  from  other 
corroborative  sources,  gives  but  a  very  imperfect 
account  of  what  this  woman  has  been. 

Her  color,  and  the  servile  condition  in  which  she 
was  born  and  reared,  have  doomed  her  to  obscurity, 
but  a  more  heroic  soul  did  not  breathe  in  the 
bosom  of  Judith  or  of  Jeanne  D'Arc. 


Preface.  1 1 

No  fear  of  the  lash,  the  blood-hound,  or  the  fiery 
stake,  could  divert  her  from  her  self-imposed  task 
of  leading  as  many  as  possible  of  her  people  "  from 
the  land  of  Egypt,  from  the  house  of  bondage." 

The  book  is  good  literature  for  the  black  race, 
or  the  white  race,  and  though  no  similar  conditions 
may  arise,  to  test  the  possibilities  that  are  in  any 
of  them,  yet  the  example  of  this  poor  sla\^e  woman 
may  well  stand  out  before  them,  and  before  all 
people,  black  or  white,  to  show  what  a  lofty  and 
martyr  spirit  may  accomplish,  struggling  against 
overwhelming  obstacles. 


HARRIET, 

THE   MOSES   OF    HER   PEOPLE. 


On  a  hot  summer's  day,  perhaps  sixty  years 
ago,  a  group  of  merry  little  darkies  were  rolling 
and  tumbling  in  the  sand  in  front  of  the  large 
house  of  a  Southern  planter.  Their  shining  skins 
gleamed  in  the  sun,  as  they  rolled  over  each  other 
in  their  play,  and  their  voices,  as  they  chattered 
together,  or  shouted  in  glee,  reached  even  to  the 
cabins  of  the  negro  quarter,  where  the  old  people 
groaned  in  spirit,  as  they  thought  of  the  future  of 
those  unconscious  young  revelers  ;  and  their  cry 
went  up,  "  O,  Lord,  how  long  !  " 
-  Apart  from  the  rest  of  the  children,  on  the  top 
rail  of  a  fence,  holding  tight  on  to  the  tall  gate 
post,  sat  a  little  girl  of  perhaps  thirteen  years  of 
age  ;  darker  than  any  of  the  others,  and  with  a 
more  decided  woolliness  in  the  hair  ;  a  pure  unmiti- 


14  Harriet \  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

gated  African.  She  was  not  so  entirely  in  a  state 
of  nature  as  the  rollers  in  the  dust  beneath  her ; 
but  her  only  garment  was  a  short  woolen  skirt, 
which  was  tied  around  her  waist,  and  reached  about 
to  her  knees.  She  seemed  a  dazed  and  stupid  child, 
and  as  her  head  hung  upon  her  breast,  she  looked 
up  with  dull  blood-shot  eyes  towards  her  young 
brothers  and  sisters,  without  seeming  to  see  them. 
Bye  and  bye  the  eyes  closed,  and  still  clinging  to 
the  post,  she  slept.  The  other  children  looked  up 
and  said  to  each  other,  "  Look  at  Hatt,  she's  done 
gone  off  agin  !  "  Tired  of  their  present  play 
ground  they  trooped  off  in  another  direction,  but 
the  girl  slept  on  heavily,  never  losing  her  hold  on 
the  post,  or  her  seat  on  her  perch.  Behold  here, 
in  the  stupid  little  negro  girl,  the  future  deliverer 
of  hundreds  of  her  people;  the  (gpy.and  scout  of 
the  Union  armies ;  the  devoted  hospital  nurse  ;  the 
protector  of  hunted  fugitives  ;  the  eloquent  speaker 
in  public  meetings  ;  the  cunning  eluder  of  pur- 
suing man-hunters  ;  the  heaven  guided  pioneer 
through  dangers  seen  and  unseen  ;  in  short,  as  she 
has  well  been  called,  "The  Moses  of  her  People." 
Here  in  her  thirteenth  year  she  is  just  recovering 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  15 

from  the  first  terrible  effects  of  an  injury  inflicted 
by  her  master,  who  in  an  ungovernable  fit  of  rage 
threw  a  heavy  weight  at  the  unoffending  child, 
breaking  in  her  skull,  and  causing  a  pressure  upon 
her  brain,  from  which  in  her  old  age  she  is  suffer- 
ing still.  This  pressure  it  was  which  caused  the 
fits  of  somnolency  so  frequently  to  come  upon  her, 
and  which  gave  her  the  appearance  of  being  stu- 
pid and  half-witted  in  those  early  years.  But  that 
brain  which  seemed  so  dull  was  full  of  busy 
thoughts,  and  her  life  problem  was  already  trying 
to  work  itself  out  there. 

She  had  heard  the  shrieks  and  cries  of  women 
who  were  being  flogged  in  the  negro  quarter  ;  she 
had  listened  to  the  groaned  out  prayer,  "  Oh,  Lord, 
have  mercy  !  "  She  had  already  seen  two  older 
sisters  taken  away  as  part  of  a  chain  gang,  and 
they  had  gone  no  one  knew  whither  ;  she  had  seen 
the  agonized  expression  on  their  faces  as  they 
turned  to  take  a  last  look  at  their  "  Old  Cabin 
Home  ; "  and  had  watched  them  from  the  top  of 
the  fence,  as  they  went  off  weeping  and  lamenting, 
till  they  were  hidden  from  her  sight  forever.  She 
saw  the  hopeless  grief  of  the  poor  old  mother,  and 


1 6  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

the  silent  despair  of  the  aged  father,  and  already 
she  began  to  revolve  in  her  mind  the  question, 
"  Why  should  such  things  be  ?  "  "  Is  there  no  de- 
liverance for  my  people  ?  " 

The  sun  shone  on,  and  Harriet  still  slept  seated 
on  the  fence  rail.  They,  those  others,  had  no 
anxious  dreams  of  the  future,  and  even  the  occa- 
sional sufferings  of  the  present  time  caused  them 
but  a  temporary  grief.  Plenty  to  eat,  and  warm 
sunshine  to  bask  in,  were  enough  to  constitute  their 
happiness  ;  i  Harriet,  however,  was  not  one  of  these. 
God  had  a  great  work  for  her  to  do  in  the  world, 
and  the  discipline  and  hardship  through  which 
she  passed  in  her  early  years,  were  only  preparing 
her  for  her  after  life  of  adventure  and  trial ;  and 
through  these  to  come  out  as  the  Savior  and  De- 
liverer of  her  people,  when  she  came  to  years  of 
womanhood. 

As  yet  she  had  seen  no  "visions,"  and  heard  no 
"  voices  ;  "  no  foreshadowing  of  her  life  of  toil  and 
privation,  of  flight  before  human  blood-hounds,  of 
watchings,  and  hidings,  of  perils  by  land,  and  perils 
by  sea,  yea,  and  of  perils  by  false  brethren,  or  of 
miraculous  deliverance  had  yet  come  to  her.     No 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  \J 

hint  of  the  great  mission  of  her  life,  to  guide  her 
people  from  the  land  of  bondage  to  the  land  of 
freedom.  But,  "Why  should  such  things  be  ? "  and 
"  Is  there  no  help  ?  "  These  were  the  questions  of 
her  waking  hours. 

The  dilapidated  state  of  things  about  the  "  Great 
House  "  told  truly  the  story  of  waning  fortunes, 
and  poverty  was  pressing  upon  the  master.  One 
by  one  the  able-bodied  slaves  disappeared  ;  some 
were  sold,  others  hired  to  other  masters.  No 
questions  were  asked ;  no  information  given  ;  they 
simply  disappeared.  A  "lady,"  for  so  she  was 
designated,  came  driving  up  to  the  great  house  one 
day,  to  see  if  she  could  find  there  a  young  girl  to 
take  care  of  a  baby.  The  lady  wished  to  pay  low 
wages,  and  so  the  most  stupid  and  the  most  incapa- 
ble of  the  children  on  the  plantation  was  chosen 
to  go  with  her.  Harriet,  who  could  command  less 
wages  than  any  other  child  of  her  age  on  the 
plantation,  was  therefore  put  into  the  wagon  with- 
out a  word  of  explanation,  and  driven  off  to  the 
lady's  house.  It  was  not  a  very  fine  house,  but 
Harriet  had  never  before  been  in  any  dwelling 
better  than  the  cabins  of  the  negro  quarter. 
2 


1 8  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

She  was  engaged  as  child's  nurse,  but  she  soon 
found  that  she  was  expected  to  be  maid  of  all  work 
by  day,  as  well  as  child's  nurse  by  night.  The  first 
task  that  was  set  her  was  that  of  sweeping  and 
dusting  a  parlor.  No  information  was  vouchsafed 
as  to  the  manner  of  going  about  this  work,  but  she 
had  often  swept  out  the  cabin,  and  this  part  of  her 
task  was  successfully  accomplished.  Then  at  once 
she  took  the  dusting  cloth,  and  wiped  off  tables, 
chairs  and  mantel-piece.  The  dust,  as  dust  will 
do,  when  it  has  nowhere  else  to  go,  at  once  settled 
again,  and  chairs  and  tables  were  soon  covered 
with  a  white  coating,  telling  a  terrible  tale  against 
Harriet,  when  her  Mistress  came  in  to  see  how  the 
work  progressed.  Reproaches,  and  savage  words, 
fell  upon  the  ears  of  the  frightened  child,  and  she 
was  commanded  to  do  the  work  all  over  again.  It 
was  done  in  precisely  the  same  way,  as  before, 
with  the  same  result.  Then  the  whip  was  brought 
into  requisition,  and  it  was  laid  on  with  no  light 
hand.  Five  times  before  breakfast  this  process 
was  repeated,  when  a  new  actor  appeared  upon  the 
scene.  Miss  Emily,  a  sister  of  the  Mistress,  had 
been   roused  from   her   morning   slumber  by  the 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  19 

sound  of  the  whip,  and  the  screams  of  the  child  ; 
and  being  of  a  less  imperious  nature  than  her  sis- 
ter, she  had  come  in  to  try  to  set  matters  right. 

"  Why  do  you  whip  the  child,  Susan,  for  not  do- 
ing what  she  has  never  been  taught  to  do  ?  Leave 
her  to  me  a  few  minutes,  and  you  will  see  that  she 
will  soon  learn  how  to  sweep  and  dust  a  room." 
Then  Miss  Emily  instructed  the  child  to  open  the 
windows,  and  sweep,  then  to  leave  the  room,  and 
set  the  table,  while  the  dust  settled  ;  and  after  that 
to  return  and  wipe  it  off.  There  was  no  more 
trouble  of  that  kind.  A  few  words  might  have  set 
the  matter  right  before  ;  but  in  those  days  many  a 
poor  slave  suffered  for  the  stupidity  and  obstinacy 
of  a  master  or  mistress,  more  stupid  than  them- 
selves. 

When  the  labors,  unremitted  for  a  moment,  of 
the  long  day  were  over  (for  this  mistress  was  an 
economical  woman,  and  intended  to  get  the  worth 
of  her  money  to  the  uttermost  farthing),  there  was 
still  no  rest  for  the  weary  child,  for  there  was  a 
cross  baby  to  be  rocked  continuously,  lest  it  should 
wake  and  disturb  the  mother's  rest.  The  black 
child  sat  beside  the  cradle  of  the  white  child,  so 


20  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

near  the  bed,  that  the  lash  of  the  whip  would  reach 
her  if  she  ventured  for  a  moment  to  forget  her 
.  fatigues  and  sufferings  in  sleep.  The  Mistress 
reposed  upon  her  bed  with  the  whip  on  a  little 
shelf  over  her  head.  People  of  color  are,  unfortu- 
nately, so  constituted  that  even  if  the  pressure  of  a 
broken  skull  does  not  cause  a  sleep  like  the  sleep 
of  the  dead,  the  need  of  rest,  and  the  refreshment 
of  slumber  after  a  day  of  toil,  were  often  felt  by 
them.  No  doubt,  this  was  a  great  wrong  to  their 
masters,  and  a  cheating  them  of  time  which  be- 
longed to  them,  but  their  slaves  did  not  always 
look  upon  it  in  that  light,  and  tired  nature  would 
demand  her  rights ;  and  so  nature  and  the  Mistress 
had  a  fight  for  it. 

Rock,  rock,  went  the  cradle,  and  mother  and 
child  slept ;  but  alas  !  the  little  black  hand  would 
sometimes  slip  down,  and  the  head  would  droop, 
and  a  dream  of  home  and  mother  would  visit  the 
weary  one,  only  to  be  roughly  dispelled  by  the 
swift  descent  of  the  stinging  lash,  for  the  baby  had 
cried  out  and  the  mother  had  been  awakened.  This 
is  no  fictitious  tale.  That  poor  neck  is  even  now 
covered  with  the  scars  which  sixty  years  of  life 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  21 

have, not  been  able  to  efface.  It  may  be  that  she 
was  thus  being  prepared  by  the  long  habit  of  en- 
forced wakefulness,  for  the  night  watches  in  the 
woods,  and  in  dens  and  caves  of  the  earth,  when  the 
pursuers  were  on  her  track,  and  the  terrified  ones 
were  trembling  in  her  shadow.  We  do  not  thank 
you  for  this,  cruel  woman  !  for  if  you  did  her  a  ser- 
vice, you  did  it  ignorantly,  and  only  for  your  own 
gratification.  But  Harriet's  powers  of  endurance 
failed  at  last,  and  she  was  returned  to  her  master, 
a  poor,  scarred  wreck,  nothing  but  skin  and  bone, 
with  the  words  that  "She  wasn't  worth  a  six- 
pence." 

The  poor  old  mother  nursed  her  back  to  life, 
and  her  naturally  good  constitution  asserted  itself, 
so  that  as  she  grew  older  she  began  to  show  signs 
of  the  wonderful  strength  which  in  after  years, 
when  the  fugitive  slave  law  was  in  operation  in 
New  York  State,  enabled  her  to  seize  a  man  from* 
the  officers  who  had  him  in  charge,  and  while 
numbers  were  pursuing  her,  and  the  shot  was  fly- 
ing like  hail  about  her  head,  to  bear  him  in  her 
own  strong  arms  beyond  the  reach  of  danger. 

As  soon  as  she   was  strong  enough  for  work, 


22  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

Harriet  was  hired  out  to  a  man  whose  tyranny  was 
worse,  if  possible,  than  that  of  the  woman  she  had 
left.  Now  it  was  out  of  door  drudgery  which  was 
put  upon  her.  The  labor  of  the  horse  and  the  ox, 
the  lifting  of  barrels  of  flour  and  other  heavy 
weights  were  given  to  her ;  and  powerful  men  often 
stood  astonished  to  see  this  woman  perform  feats 
of  strength  from  which  they  shrunk  incapable. 
This  cruelty  she  looks  upon  as  a  blessing  in  dis- 
guise (a  very  questionable  shape  the  blessing  took, 
methinks),  for  by  it  she  was  prepared  for  after 
needs. 

Still  the  pressure  upon  the  brain  continued,  and 
with  the  weight  half  lifted,  she  would  drop  off  into 
a  state  of  insensibility,  from  which  even  the  lash  in 
the  hand  of  a  strong  man  could  not  rouse  her. 
But  if  they  had  only  known  it,  the  touch  of  a 
gentle  hand  upon  her  shoulder,  and  her  name 
spoken  in  tones  of  kindness,  would  have  accom- 
plished what  cruelty  failed  to  do. 

The  day's  work  must  be  accomplished,  whether 
the  head  was  racked  with  pain,  and  the  frame  was 
consumed  by  fever,  or  not  ;  but  the  day  came  at 
length  when  poor  Harriet  could  work  no  more. 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  23 

The  sting  of  the  lash  had  no  power  to  rouse  her 
now,  and  the  new  master  finding  her  a  dead  weight 
on  his  hands,  returned  the  useless  piece  of  prop- 
erty to  him  who  was  called  her  "owner."  And 
while  she  lay  there  helpless,  this  man  was  bringing 
other  men  to  look  at  her,  and  offering  her  for  sale 
at  the  lowest  possible  price  ;  at  the  same  time  set- 
ting forth  her  capabilities,  if  once  she  were  strong 
and  well  again. 

Harriet's  religious  character  I  have  not  yet 
touched  upon.  Brought  up  by  parents  possessed 
of  strong  faith  in  God,  she  had  never  known  the 
time,  I  imagine,  when  she  did  not  trust  Him,  and 
cling  to  Him,  with  an  all-abiding  confidence.  She 
seemed  ever  to  feel  the  Divine  Presence  near,  and 
she  talked  with  God  "as  a  man  talketh  with  his 
friend."  Hers  was  not  the  religion  of  a  morning 
and  evening  prayer  at  stated  times,  but  when  she 
felt  a  need,  she  simply  told  God  of  it,  and  trusted 
Him  to  set  the  matter  right. 

"And  so,"  she  said  to  me,  "as  I  lay  so  sick  on 
my  bed,  from  Christmas  till  March,  I  was  always 
praying  for  poor  ole  master.  'Pears  like  I  didn't  do 
nothing  but  pray  for  ole  master,     '  Oh,  Lord,  con- 


24  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

vert  ole  master; '  '  Oh,  dear  Lord,  change  dat  man's 
heart,  and  make  him  a  Christian.'  And  all  the 
time  he  was  bringing  men  to  look  at  me,  and  dey 
stood  there  saying  what  dey  would  give,  and  what 
dey  would  take,  and  all  I  could  say  was,  '  Oh, 
Lord,  convert  ole  master.'  Den  I  heard  dat  as 
soon  as  I  was  able  to  move  I  was  to  be  sent  with 
my  brudders,  in  the  chain-gang  to  de  far  South. 
Then  I  changed  my  prayer,  and  I  said,  '  Lord,  if 
you  ain't  never  going  to  change  dat  man's  heart, 
kill  him,  Lord,  and  take  him  out  of  de  way,  so  he 
won't  do  no  more  mischief.'  Next  ting  I  heard  ole 
master  was  dead  ;  and  he  died  just  as  he  had  lived, 
a  wicked,  bad  man.  Oh,  den  it  'peared  like  I 
would  give  de  world  full  of  silver  and  gold,  if  I 
had  it,  to  bring  dat  pore  soul  back,  I  would  give 
77iyself;  I  would  give  eberyting  !  But  he  was  gone, 
I  couldn't  pray  for  him  no  more." 

As  she  recovered  from  this  long  illness,  a  deeper 
religious  spirit  seemed  to  take  possession  of  her 
than  she  had  ever  experienced  before.  She  literally 
"prayed  without  ceasing."  "'Pears  like,  I  prayed 
all  de  time,"  she  said,  "  about  my  work,  ebery- 
where  ;   I  was  always  talking  to  de  Lord.     When 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  2$ 

1  went  to  the  horse-trough  to  wash  my  face,  and 
took  up'  de  water  in  my  hands,  I  said,  '  Oh,  Lord, 
wash  me,  make  me  clean.'  When  I  took  up  de 
towel  to  wipe  my  face  and  hands,  I  cried,  '  Oh, 
Lord,  for  Jesus'  sake,  wipe  away  all  my  sins  !' 
When  I  took  up  de  broom  and  began  to  sweep, 
I  groaned,  '  Oh,  Lord,  whatsoebber  sin  dere  be  in 
my  heart,  sweep  it  out,  Lord,  clar  and  clean  ; '  but 
I  can't  pray  no  more  for  pore  ole  master."  No 
words  can  describe  the  pathos  of  her  tones  as  she 
broke  into  these  words  of  earnest  supplication. 

What  was  to  become  of  the  slaves  on  this  plan- 
tation now  that  the  master  was  dead  ?  Were  they 
all  to  be  scattered  and  sent  to  different  parts  of 
the  country  ?  Harriet  had  many  brothers  and 
sisters,  all  of  whom  with  the  exception  of  the 
two,  who  had  gone  South  with  the  chain-gang, 
were  living  on  this  plantation,  or  were  hired  out 
to  planters  not  far  away.  The  word  passed  through 
the  cabins  that  another  owner  was  coming  in,  and 
that  none  of  the  slaves  were  to  be  sold  out  of 
the  State.  This  assurance  satisfied  the  others, 
but  it  did  not  satisfy  Harriet.  Already  the  inward 
monitor  was  whispering  to   her,  "Arise,   flee   for 


26  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

your  life  ! "  and  in  the  visions  of  the  night  she 
saw  the  horsemen  coming,  and  heard  the  shrieks  of 
women  and  children,  as  they  were  being  torn  from 
each  other,  and  hurried  off  no  one  knew  whither. 

And  beckoning  hands  were  ever  motioning  her  to 
come,  and  she  seemed  to  see  a  line  dividing  the 
land  of  slavery  from  the  land  of  freedom,  and  on 
the  other  side  of  that  line  she  saw  lovely  white 
ladies  waiting  to  welcome  her,  and  to  care  for 
her.  Already  in  her  mind  her  people  were  the 
Israelites  in  the  land  of  Egypt,  while  far  away 
to  the  north  somewhere,  was  the  land  of  Canaan  ; 
but  had  she  as  yet  any  prevision  that  she  was  to 
be  the  Moses  who  was  to  be  their  leader,  through 
clouds  of  darkness  and  fear,  and  fires  of  tribula- 
tion to  that  promised  land  ?     This  she  never  said. 

One  day  there  were  scared  faces  seen  in  the 
negro  quarter,  and  hurried  whispers  passed  from 
one  to  another.  No  one  knew  how  it  had  come 
out,  but  some  one  had  heard  that  Harriet  and  two 
of  her  brothers  were  very  soon,  perhaps  to-day, 
perhaps  to-morrow,  to  be  sent  far  South  with  a 
gang,  bought  up  for  plantation  work.  Harriet 
was  about  twenty  or  twenty-five  years  old  at  this 


Harriet \  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  27 

time,  and  the  constantly  recurring  idea  of  escape 
at  sometime,  took  sudden  form  that  day,  and  with 
her  usual  promptitude  of  action  she  was  ready  to 
start  at  once. 

She  held  a  hurried  consultation  with  her 
brothers,  in  which  she  so  wrought  upon  their 
fears,  that  they  expressed  themselves  as  willing 
to  start  with  her  that  very  night,  for  that  far 
North,  where,  could  they  reach  it  in  safety,  free- 
dom awaited  them.  But  she  must  first  give  some 
intimation  of  her  purpose  to  the  friends  she  was 
to  leave  behind,  so  that  even  if  not  understood 
at  the  time,  it  might  be  remembered  afterward 
as  her  intended  farewell.  Slaves  must  not  be 
seen  talking  together,  and  so  it  came  about  that 
their  communication  was  often  made  by  singing, 
and  the  words  of  their  familiar  hymns,  telling  of 
the  heavenly  journey,  and  the  land  of  Canaan, 
while  they  did  not  attract  the  attention  of  the 
masters,  conveyed  to  their  brethren  and  sisters 
in  bondage  something  more  than  met  the  ear. 
And  so  she  sang,  accompanying  the  words,  when 
for  a  moment  unwatched,  with  a  meaning  look  to 
one  and  another: 


28  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

"  When  dat  ar  ole  chariot  comes, 
I'm  gwine  to  lebe  you, 
I'm  boun'  for  de  promised  land, 
Frien's,  I'm  gwine  to  lebe  you." 

Again,  as  she  passed  the  doors  of  the  different 
cabins,  she  lifted  up  her  well-known  voice  ;  and 
many  a  dusky  face  appeared  at  door  or  window, 
with  a  wondering  or  scared  expression  ;  and  thus 
she  continued: 

"  I'm  sorry,  frien's,  to  lebe  you, 
Farewell !  oh,  farewell ! 
But  I'll  meet  you  in  de  mornin', 
Farewell !  oh,  farewell ! 

"  I'll  meet  you  in  de  mornin', 

When  you  reach  de  promised  land  ; 
On  de  oder  side  of  Jordan, 

For  I'm  boun'  for  de  promised  land." 

The  brothers  started  with  her,  but  the  way  was 
strange,  the  north  was  far  away,  and  all  unknown, 
the  masters  would  pursue  and  recapture  them,  and 
their  fate  would  be  worse  than  ever  before;  and  so 
they  broke  away  from  her,  and  bidding  her  good- 
bye, they  hastened  back  to  the  known  horrors  of 
slavery,  and  the  dread  of  that  which  was  worse. 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  29 

Harriet  was  now  left  alone,  but  after  watching 
the  retreating  forms  of  her  brothers,  she  turned 
her  face  toward  the  north,  and  fixing  her  eyes  on 
the  guiding  star,  and  committing  her  way  unto  the 
Lord,  she  started  again  upon  her  long,  lonely  jour- 
ney. Her  farewell  song  was  long  remembered  in 
the  cabins,  and  the  old  mother  sat  and  wept  for  her 
lost  child.  No  intimation  had  been  given  her  of 
Harriet's  intention,  for  the  old  woman  was  of  a 
most  impulsive  disposition,  and  her  cries  and  la- 
mentations would  have  made  known  to  all  within 
hearing  Harriet's  intended  escape.  And  so,  with- 
only  the  North  Star  for  her  guide,  our  heroine 
started  on  the  way  to  liberty.  "  For,"  said  she, 
"I  had  reasoned  dis  out  in  my  mind;  there  was 
one  of  two  things  I  had  a  right  to,  liberty,  or 
death  ;  if  I  could  not  have  one,  I  would  have 
de  oder  ;  for  no  man  should  take  me  alive  ;  I 
should  fight  for  my  liberty  as  long  as  my  strength 
lasted,  and  when  de  time  came  for  me  to  go,  de 
Lord  would  let  dem  take  me." 

And  so  without  money,  and  without  friends,  she 
started  on  through  unknown  regions  ;  walking  by 
night,  hiding  by  day,  but  always  conscious  of  an 


30  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

invisible  pillar  of  cloud  by  day,  and  of  fire  by 
night,  under  the  guidance  of  which  she  journeyed 
or  rested.  Without  knowing  whom  to  trust,  or 
how  near  the  pursuers  might  be,  she  carefully  felt 
her  way,  and  by  her  native  cunning,  or  by  God 
given  wisdom,  she  managed  to  apply  to  the  right 
people  for  food,  and  sometimes  for  shelter ; 
though  often  her  bed  was  only  the  cold  ground, 
and  her  watchers  the  stars  of  night. 

After  many  long  and  weary  days  of  travel,  she 
found  that  she  had  passed  the  magic  line,  which 
then  divided  the  land  of  bondage  from  the  land  of 
*  freedom.  But  where  were  the  lovely  white  ladies 
whom  in  her  visions  she  had  seen,  who,  with  arms 
outstretched,  welcomed  her  to  their  hearts  and 
homes.  All  these  visions  proved  deceitful  :  she 
was  more  alone  than  ever  ;  but  she  had  crossed 
the  line  ;  no  one  could  take  her  now,  and  she_ 
would  never  call  any  man  "  Master  "  more. 

"  I  looked  at  my  hands,"  she  said,  "  to  see  if  I 
was  de  same  person  now  I  was  free.  Dere  was 
such  a  glory  ober  eberything,  de  sun  came  like 
gold  trou  de  trees,  and  ober  de  fields,  and  I  felt 
like  I -was  in  heaven."     But  then  came  the  bitter 


Harriet \  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  31 

drop  in  the  cup  of  joy.  She  was  alone,  and  her 
kindred  were  in  slavery,  and  not  one  of  them  had 
the  courage  to  dare  what  she  had  dared.  Unless 
she  made  the  effort  to  liberate  them  she  would 
never  see  them  more,  or  even  know  their  fate. 

"I  knew  of  a  man,"  she  said,  "who  was  sent  to 
the  State  Prison  for  twenty-five  years.  All  these 
years  he  was  always  thinking  of  his  home,  and 
counting  by  years,  months,  and  days,  the  time  till 
he  should  be  free,  and  see  his  family  and  friends 
once  more.  The  years  roll  on,  the  time  of  impris- 
onment is  over,  the  man  is  free.  He  leaves  the 
prison  gates,  he  makes  his  way  to  his  old  home, 
but  his  old  home  is  not  there.  The  house  in  which 
he  had  dwelt  in  his  childhood  had  been  torn  down, 
and  a  new  one  had  been  put  up  in  its  place  ;  his 
family  were  gone,  their  very  name  was  forgotten, 
there  was  no  one  to  take  him  by  the  hand  to  wel- 
come him  back  to  life." 

"So  it  was  wid  me,"  said  Harriet,  "I  had 
crossed  de  line  of  which  I  had  so  long  been 
dreaming.  I  was  free  ;  but  dere  was  no  one  to 
welcome  me  to  de  land  of  freedom,  I  was  a  stran- 
ger in  a  strange  land,  and  my  home  after  all  was 


32  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

down  in  de  old  cabin  quarter,  wid  de  ole  folks, 
and  my  brudders  and  sisters.  But  to  dis  solemn 
resolution  I  came  ;  I  was  free,  and  dey  should  be 
free  also ;  I  would  make  a  home  for  dem  in  de 
North,  and  de  Lord  helping  me,  I  would  bring 
dem  all  dere.  Oh,  how  I  prayed  den,  lying  all 
alone  on  de  cold,  damp  ground  ;  "  Oh,  dear  Lord," 
I  said,  "  I  haint  got  no  friend  but  you.  Come  to 
my  help,  Lord,  for  I'm  in  trouble  !  " 

It  would  be  impossible  here  to  give  a  detailed 
account  of  the  journeys  and  labors  of  this  intrepid 
woman  for  the  redemption  of  her  kindred  and 
friends,  during  the  years  that  followed.  Those 
years  were  spent  in  work,  almost  by  night  and  day, 
with  the  one  object  of  the  rescue  of  her  people 
from  slavery.  All  her  wages  were  laid  away  with 
this  sole  purpose,  and  as  soon  as  a  sufficient 
amount  was  secured,  she  disappeared  from  her 
Northern  home,  and  as  suddenly  and  mysteriously 
she  appeared  some  dark  night  at  the  door  of  one 
of  the  cabins  on  a  plantation,  where  a  trembling 
band  of  fugitives,  forewarned  as  to  time  and  place, 
were  anxiously  awaiting  their  deliverer.  Then  she 
piloted    them    North,   traveling   by   night,  hiding 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  33 

by  day,  scaling  the  mountains,  fording  the  rivers, 
threading  the  forests,  lying  concealed  as  the  pur- 
suers passed  them.  She,  carrying  the  babies, 
drugged  with  paregoric,  in  a  basket  on  her  arm. 
So  she  went  nineteen  times,  and  so  she  brought- 
away  over  three  hundred  pieces  of  living  and 
breathing  "  property,"  with  God  given  souls. 

The  way  was  so  toilsome  over  the  rugged  moun- 
tain passes,  that  often  the  7nen  who  followed  her 
would  give  out,  and  foot-sore,  and  bleeding,  they 
would  drop  on  the  ground,  groaning  that  they 
could  not  take  another  step.  They  would  lie  there 
and  die,  or  if  strength  came  back,  they  would 
return  on  their  steps,  and  seek  their  old  homes 
again.  Then  the  revolver  carried  by  this  bold  and 
daring  pioneer,  would  come  out,  while  pointing  it 
at  their  heads  she  would  say,  "  Dead  niggers  tell 
no  tales  ;  you  go  on  or  die  !  "  And  by  this  heroic 
treatment  she  compelled  them  to  drag  their  weary 
limbs  along  on  their  northward  journey. 

But  the  pursuers  were  after  them.     A  reward  of 

$40,000  was  offered   by  the  slave-holders  of  the 

region   from   whence   so    many    slaves   had   been 

spirited   away,   for  the  head   of  the  woman  who 

3 


34  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

appeared  so  mysteriously,  and  enticed  away  their 
property,  from  under  the  very  eyes  of  its  owners. 
Our  sagacious  heroine  has  been  in  the  car,  having 
sent  her  frightened  party  round  by  some  so-called 
"  Under-ground  Railway,"  and  has  heard  this 
advertisement,  which  was  posted  over  her  head, 
i  read  by  others  of  the  passengers.  She  never  could 
read  or  write  herself,  but  knowing  that  suspicion 
would  be  likely  to  fall  upon  any  black  woman 
traveling  North,  she  would  turn  at  the  next  sta- 
tion, and  journey  towards  the  South.  Who  would 
suspect  a  fugitive  with  such  a  price  set  upon  her 
head,  of  rushing  at  railway  speed  into  the  jaws  of 
destruction  ?  With  a  daring  almost  heedless,  she 
went  even  to  the  very  village  where  she  would  be 
most  likely  to  meet  one  of  the  masters  to  whom 
she  had  been  hired  ;  and  having  stopped  at  the 
Market  and  bought  a  pair  of  live  fowls,  she  went 
along  the  street  with  her  sun-bonnet  well  over  her 
face,  and  with  the  bent  and  decrepit  air  of  an  aged 
woman.  Suddenly  on  turning  a  corner,  she  spied 
her  old  master  coming  towards  her.  She  pulled 
the  string  which  tied  the  legs  of  the  chickens  ; 
they  began  to  nutter  and  scream,  and  as  her  mas- 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  35 

ter  passed,  she  was  stooping  and  busily  engaged  in 
attending  to  the  fluttering  fowls.     And  he  went  on 
his  way,  little  thinking  that  he  was  brushing  the 
very   garments  of  the  woman   who  had  dared  to< 
steal  herself,  and  others  of  his  belongings. 

At  one  time  the  pursuit  was  very  close  and  vig- 
orous. The  woods  were  scoured  in  all  directions, 
every  house  was  visited,  and  every  person  stopped 
and  questioned  as  to  a  band  of  black  fugitives, 
known  to  be  fleeing  through  that  part  of  the  coun- 
try. Harriet  had  a  large  party  with  her  then  ;  the 
children  were  sleeping  the  sound  sleep  that  opium 
gives  ; .  but  all  the  others  were  on  the  alert,  each 
one  hidden  behind  his  own  tree,  and  silent  as 
death.  They  had  been  long  without  food,  and 
were  nearly  famished  ;  and  as  the  pursuers  seemed 
to  have  passed  on,  Harriet  decided  to  make  the  at- 
tempt to  reach  a  certain  "  station  of  the  under- 
ground railroad  "  well  known  to  her  ;  and  procure 
food  for  her  starving  party.  Under  cover  of  the 
darkness,  she  started,  leaving  a  cowering  and 
trembling  group  in  the  woods,  to  whom  a  flutter- 
ing leaf,  or  a  moving  animal,  were  a  sound  of 
dread,  bringing  their    hearts    into   their   throats. 


36  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

How  long  she  is  away !  has  she  been  caught  and 
carried  off,  and  if  so  what  is  to  become  of  them  ? 
Hark  !  there  is  a  sound  of  singing  in  the  distance, 
coming  nearer  and  nearer. 

And  these  are  the  words  of  the  unseen  singer, 
which  I  wish  I  could  give  you  as  I  have  so  often 
heard  them  sung  by  herself  : 

Hail,  oh  hail,  ye  happy  spirits, 

Death  no  more  shall  make  you  fear, 

Grief  nor  sorrow,  pain  nor  anguish, 

Shall  no  more  distress  you  dere. 

< 

Around  Him  are  ten  thousand  angels, 

Always  ready  to  obey  command; 

Dey  are  always  hovering  round  you, 

Till  you  reach  de  heavenly  land. 

Jesus,  Jesus  will  go  wid  you, 

He  will  lead  you  to  his  throne; 
He  who  died,  has  gone  before  you, 

Trod  de  wine- press  all  alone. 

He  whose  thunders  shake  creation, 

He  who  bids  de  planets  roll; 
He  who  rides  upon  the  tempest, 

And  whose  scepter  sways  de  whole. 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  37 

Dark  and  thorny  is  de  pathway, 
Where  de  pilgrim  makes  his  ways; 

But  beyond  dis  vale  of  sorrow, 
Lie  de  fields  of  endless  days. 

The  air  sung  to  these  words  was  so  wild,  so  full 
of  plaintive  minor  strains,  and  unexpected  quavers, 
that  I  would  defy  any  white  person  to  learn  it,  and 
often  as  I  heard  it,  it  was  to  me  a  constant  surprise. 
Up  and  down  the  road  she  passes  to  see  if  the 
coast  is  clear,  and  then  to  make  them  certain  that  it 
is  their  leader  who  is  coming,  she  breaks  out  into 
the  plaintive  strains  of  the  song,  forbidden  to  her 
people  at  the  South,  but  which  she  and  her  follow- 
ers delight  to  sing  together  : 

Oh  go  down,  Moses, 

Way  down  into  Egypt's  land, 
Tell  old  Pharaoh, 

Let  my  people  go. 

Oh  Pharaoh  said  he  would  go  cross, 

Let  my  people  go, 
And  don't  get  lost  in  de  wilderness, 

Let  my  people  go. 


38  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

Oh  go  down,  Moses, 

Way  down  into  Egypt's  land, 
Tell  old  Pharaoh, 

Let  my  people  go. 

You  may  hinder  me  here,  but  you  can't  up  dere, 

Let  my  people  go, 
He  sits  in  de  Hebben  and  answers  prayer, 

Let  my  people  go  ! 

Oh  go  down,  Moses, 

Way  down  into  Egypt's  land, 
Tell  old  Pharaoh, 

Let  my  people  go. 

And  then  she  enters  the  recesses  of  the  wood, 
carrying  hope  and  comfort  to  the  anxious  watchers 
there.  One  by  one  they  steal  out  from  their  hid- 
ing places,  and  are  fed  and  strengthened  for  an- 
other night's  journey. 

And  so  by  night  travel,  by  signals,  by  threaten- 
ings,  by  encouragement,  through  watchings  and 
fastings,  and  I  may  say  by  direct  interpositions 
of  Providence,  and  miraculous  deliverances,  she 
brought  her  people  to  what  was  then  their  land  of 
Canaan  ;  the  State  of  New  York.  But  alas  !  this 
State  did  not  continue  to  be  their  refuge.     For  in 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  39 

1850,  I  think,  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law  was  put  in* 
force,  which  bound  the  people  north  of  Mason  and 
Dixon's    line,  to  return  to  bondage   any    fugitive 
found  in  their  territories. 

"  After  that,"  said  Harriet,  "  I  wouldn't  trust 
Uncle  Sam  wid  my  people  no  longer,  but  I  brought 
'em  all  clar  off  to  Canada." 

On  her  seventh  or  eighth  journey,  she  brought 
with  her  a  band  of  fugitives,  among  whom  was  a 
very  remarkable  man,  whom  I  knew  only  by  the 
name  of  "  Joe."  Joe  was  a  noble  specimen  of  a 
negro,  enormously  tall,  and  of  splendid  muscular 
development.  He  had  been  hired  out  by  his  mas- 
ter to  another  planter,  for  whom  he  had  worked  for 
six  years,  saving  him  all  the  expense  of  an  over- 
seer, and  taking  all  trouble  off  from  his  hands.  He 
was  such  a  very  valuable  piece  of  property,  and  had 
become  so  absolutely  necessary  to  the  planter  to 
whom  he  was  hired,  that  he  determined  to  buy  him 
at  any  cost.  His  old  master  held  him  proportion- 
ately high.  But  by  paying  one  thousand  dollars 
down,  and  promising  to  pay  another  thousand  in  a 
certain  time,  the  purchase  was  made,  and  this  chat- 
tel passed  over  into  the  hands  of  a  new  owner. 


40  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

The  morning  after  the  purchase  was  completed, 
the  new  master  came  riding  down  on  a  tall,  powerful 
horse  into  the  negro  quarter,  with  a  strong  new  raw- 
hide in  his  hand,  and  stopping  before  Joe's  cabin, 
called  to  him  to  come  out.  Joe  was  just  eating  his 
breakfast,  but  with  ready  obedience,  he  hastened 
out  at  the  summons.  Slave  as  he  was,  and  accus- 
tomed to  scenes  of  brutality,  he  was  surprised  when 
the  order  came,  "  Now,  Joe,  strip,  and  take  a  lick- 
ing." Naturally  enough,  he  demurred  at  first,  and 
thought  of  resisting  the  order;  but  he  called  to 
mind  a  scene  he  had  witnessed  a  few  days  before 
in  the  field,  the  particulars  of  which  are  too  hor- 
rible to  be  given  here,  and  he  thought  it  the  wisest 
course  to  submit;  but  first  he  tried  a  gentle  remon- 
strance. 

"  Mas'r,"  said  he,  "  habn't  I  always  been  faithful 
to  you  ?  Habn't  I  worked  through  sun  an'  rain, 
early  in  de  mornin'  an'  late  at  night;  habn't  I  saved 
you  an  oberseer  by  doin'  his  work  ?  hab  you  any- 
thing to  complain  agin  me  ?  " 

"  No,  Joe,  I  have  no  complaint  to  make  of  you. 
You're  a  good  nigger,  an'  you've  always  worked 
well.    But  you  belong  to  me  now;  you're  my  nigger, 


Harriet)  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  41 

and  the  first  lesson  my  niggers  have  to  learn  is  that 
I  am  master  and  they  belong  to  me,  and  are  never 
to  resist  anything  I  order  them  to  do.  So  I  always 
begin  by  giving  them  a  good  licking.  Now  strip 
and  take  it." 

Joe  saw  that  there  was  no  help  for  him,  and  that 
for  the  time  he  must  submit.  He  stripped  off  his 
clothing,  and  took  his  flogging  without  a  word,  but 
as  he  drew  his  shirt  up  over  his  torn  and  bleeding 
back,  he  said  to  himself:  "  Dis  is  de  first  an'  de 
last."  As  soon  as  he  was  able  he  took  a  boat,  and 
under  cover  of  the  night,  rowed  down  the  river,  and 
made  his  way  to  the  cabin  of  "  Old  Ben,"  Harriet's 
father,  and  said  to  him:  "  Nex'  time  Moses  comes, 
let  me  know." 

It  was  not  long  after  this  time,  that  the  mys- 
terious woman  appeared — the  woman  on  whom  no 
one  could  lay  his  finger — and  men,  women,  and 
children  began  to  disappear  from  the  plantations. 
One  fine  morning  Joe  was  missing,  and  call  as  loud 
as  he  might,  the  master's  voice  had  no  power  to 
bring  him  forth.  Joe  had  certainly  fled;  and  his 
brother  William  was  gone,  and  Peter  and  Eliza. 
From  other  plantations  other  slaves  were  missing, 


42  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

and  before  their  masters  were  awake  to  the  fact, 
the  party  of  fugitives,  following  their  intrepid 
leader,  were  far  on  their  way  towards  liberty. 

The  adventures  of  this  escaping  party  would  of 
themselves  fill  a  volume.  They  hid  in  potato  holes 
by  day,  while  their  pursuers  passed  within  a  few 
feet  of  them;  they  were  passed  along  by  friends  in 
various  disguises;  they  scattered  and  separated; 
some  traveling  by  boat,  some  by  wagons,  some  by 
cars,  others  on  foot,  to  meet  at  some  specified  sta- 
tion of  the  under-ground  railroad.  They  met  at 
the  house  of  Sam  Green,*  the  man  who  was  after- 
wards sent  to  prison  for  ten  years  for  having  a  copy 
of  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin  "  in  his  house.  And  so, 
hunted  and  hiding  and  wandering,  they  found 
themselves    at   last   at   the    entrance   of   the    long 

*  In  mentioning  to  me  the  circumstances  of  Sam  Green's 
imprisonment,  Harriet,  who  had  no  acquaintance  with  books, 
merely  mentioned  the  fact  as  it  had  come  to  her  own  knowledge. 
But  I  have  lately  come  across  a  book  in  the  Astor  Library 
which  confirms  the  story  precisely  as  she  stated  it.  It  is  in  a 
book  by  Rev.  John  Dixon  Long,  of  Philadelphia.  He  says, 
"  Samuel  Green,  a  free  colored  man  of  Dorchester  County, 
Maryland,  was  sentenced  to   ten  years'  confinement  in  the 


Harriet \  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  43 

bridge  which  crosses  the  river  at  Wilmington,  Dela- 
ware. 

No  time  had  been  lost  in  posting  up  advertise- 
ments and  offering  rewards  for  the  capture  of  these 
fugitives;  for  Joe  in  particular  the  reward  offered 
was  very  high.  First  a  thousand  dollars,  then  fif- 
teen hundred,  and  then  two  thousand,  "  an'  all  ex- 
penses clar  an'  clean  for  his  body  in  Easton  Jail." 
This  high  reward  stimulated  the  efforts  of  the 
officers  who  were  usually  on  the  lookout  for  escap- 
ing fugitives,  and  the  added  rewards  for  others  of 
the  party,  and  the  high  price  set  on  Harriet's  head, 
filled  the  woods  and  highways  with  eager  hunters 
after  human  prey.  When  Harriet  and  her  com- 
panions approached  the  long  Wilmington  Bridge,  a 
warning  was  given  them  by  some  secret  friend,  that 

Maryland   State    Prison,  at  the   spring   term   of   the  County 
Court  held  in  Cambridge,  Md. 

' '  What  was  the  crime  imputed  to  this  man,  born  on  American 
soil,  a  man  of  good  moral  character,  a  local  preacher  in  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church;  a  husband  and  a  father  ?  Simply 
this  :  A  copy  of  '  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin '  had  been  found  in 
his  possession.  It  was  not  proved  that  he  had  ever  read  it  to 
the  colored  people." 


44  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

*  the  advertisements  were  up,  and  the  bridge  was 
guarded  by  police  officers.  Quick  as  lightning  the 
plans  were  formed  in  her  ready  brain,  and  the 
terrified  party  were  separated  and  hidden  in  the 
houses  of  different  friends,  till  her  arrangements  for 
their  further  journey  were  completed. 

There  was  at  that  time  residing  in  Wilmington 
an  old  Quaker,  whom  I  may  call  my  "  friend,"  for 
though  I  never  saw  his  face,  I  have  had  corre- 
spondence with   him  in   reference  to   Harriet  and 

a  her  followers.  This  man,  whose  name  was  Thomas 
Garrett,  and  who  was  well  known  in  those  days  to 
the  friends  of  the  slave,  was  a  man  of  a  wonderfully 
large  and  generous  heart,  through  whose  hands 
during  those  days  of  distress  and  horror,  no  less 
than  three  thousand  self-emancipated  men,  women 
and  children  passed  on  their  way  to  freedom.  He 
gave  heart,  hand,  and  means  to  aid  these  poor 
fugitives,  and  to  our  brave  Harriet  he  often  ren- 
dered most  efficient  help  in  her  journeys  back  and 
forth. 

He  was  the  proprietor  of  a  very  large  shoe 
establishment ;  and  not  one  of  these  poor  travelers 
ever  left  his  house  without  a  present  of  a  new  pair 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  45 

of  shoes  and  other  needed  help.  No  sooner  had 
this  good  man  received  intelligence  of  the  condi- 
tion of  these  poor  creatures,  than  he  devised  a  plan 
to  elude  the  vigilance  of  the  officers  in  pursuit, 
arud  bring  Harriet  and  her  party  across  the  bridge. 
Two  wagons  filled  with  bricklayers  were  engaged, 
and  sent  over  ;  this  was  a  common  sight  there,  and 
caused  no  remark.  They  went  across  the  bridge 
singing  and  shouting,  and  it  was  not  an  unexpected 
thing  that  they  should  return  as  they  went.  After 
nightfall  (and,  fortunately,  the  night  was  very  dark) 
the  same  wagons  recrossed  the  bridge,  but  with  an 
unlooked-for  addition  to  their  party.  The  fugi-. 
tives  were  lying  close  together  on  the  bottom  of 
the  wagons ;  the  bricklayers  were  on  the  seats, 
still  singing  and  shouting ;  and  so  they  passed  the 
guards,  who  were  all  unsuspicious  of  the  nature  of 
the  load  contained  in  the  wagons,  or  of  the  amount 
of  property  thus  escaping  their  hands. 

The  good  man,  Thomas  Garrett,  who  was  in  a 
very  feeble  state  of  health  when  he  last  wrote  me, 
and  has  now  gone  to  his  reward,,  supplied  them 
with  all  needed  comforts,  and  sent  them  on  their 
way  refreshed,  and  with  renewed  courage.      And 


46  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

Harriet  here  set  up  her  Ebenezer,  saying,  "  Thus 
far  hath  the  Lord  helped  me  !  "  But  many  a  dan- 
ger, and  many  a  fright,  and  many  a  deliverance 
awaited  them,  before  they  reached  the  city  of  New 
York.  And  even  there  they  were  not  safe,  for  the 
Fugitive  Slave  Law  was  in  operation,  and  their 
only  refuge  was  Canada,  which  was  now  their 
promised  land. 

They  finally  reached  New  York  in  safety  :  and 
this  goes  almost  without  saying,  for  I  may  as  well 
mention  here  that  of  the  three  hundred  and  more 
•  fugitives  whom  Harriet  piloted  from  slavery,  not 
one  was  ever  recaptured,  though  all  the  cunning 
and  skill  of  white  men,  backed  by  offered  rewards 
of  large  sums  of  money,  were  brought  into  requi- 
sition for  their  recovery. 

As  they  entered  the  anti-slavery  office  in  New 
York,  Mr.  Oliver  Johnson  rose  up  and  exclaimed, 
"  Well,  Joe,  I  am  glad  to  see  the  man  who  is  worth 
$2,000  to  his  master."  At  this  Joe's  heart  sank. 
"  Oh,  Mas'r,  how  did  you  know  me  !  "  he  panted. 
"Here  is  the  advertisement  in  our  office,"  said  Mr. 
Johnson,  "  and  the  description  is  so  close  that  no 
one  could  mistake  it."     And  had  he  come  through 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  47 

all  these  perils,  had  he  traveled  by  day  and  night, 
and  suffered  cold  and  hunger,  and  lived  in  constant 
fear  and  dread,  to  find  that  far  off  here  in  New  York 
State,  he  was  recognized  at  once  by  the  advertise- 
ment ?     How,  then,  was  he  ever  to  reach  Canada  ? 

"  And  how  far  off  is  Canada  ? "  he  asked.  He 
was  shown  the  map  of  New  York  State,  and  the 
track  of  the  railroad,  for  more  than  three  hundred 
miles  to  Niagara,  where  he  would  cross  the  river, 
and  be  free.  But  the  way  seemed  long  and  full  of 
dangers.  They  were  surely  safer  on  their  own 
tired  feet,  where  they  might  hide  in  forests  and 
ditches,  and  take  refuge  in  the  friendly  under- 
ground stations  ;  but  here,  where  this  large  party 
would  be  together  in  the  cars,  surely  suspicion 
would  fall  upon  them,  and  they  would  be  seized 
and  carried  back.  But  Harriet  encouraged  him  in 
her  cheery  way.  He  must  not  give  up  now.  "  De 
Lord  had  been  with  them  in  six  troubles,  and  he 
would  not  desert  them  in  de  seventh."  And  there 
was  nothing  to  do  but  to  go  on.  As  Moses  spoke1 
to  the  children  of  Israel,  when  compassed  before 
and  behind  by  dangers,  so  she  spake  to  her  people, 
that  they  should  "go  forward." 


48  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

Up  to  this  time,  as  they  traveled  they  had  talked 
and  sung  hymns  together,  like  Pilgrim  and  his 
friends,  and  Joe's  voice  was  the  loudest  and  sweet- 
est among  them  ;  but  now  he  hanged  his  harp 
upon  the  willows,  and  could  sing  the  Lord's  songs 
no  more. 

"  From  dat  time,"  in  Harriet's  language,  "  Joe 
was  silent ;  he  talked  no  more  ;  he  sang  no  more  ; 
he  sat  wid  his  head  on  his  hand,  an'  nobody  could 
'rouse  him,  nor  make  him  take  any  intrust  in  any- 
thing." 

They  passed  along  in  safety  through  New  York 
State,  and  at  length  found  themselves  approaching 
the  Suspension  Bridge.  They  could  see  the  prom- 
ised land  on  the  other  side.  The  uninviting  plains 
of  Canada  seemed  to  them, 

"  Sweet  fields  beyond  the  sv/elling  flood, 
All  dressed  in  living  green  ;  " 

but  they  were  not  safe  yet.  Until  they  reached 
the  center  of  the  bridge,  they  were  still  in  the 
power  of  their  pursuers,  who  might  at  any  pause 
enter  the  car,  and  armed  with  the  power  of  the  law, 
drag  them  back  to  slavery.     The  rest  of  the  party 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  49 

were  happy  and  excited  ;  they  were  simple,  igno- 
rant creatures,  and  having  implicit  trust  in  their 
leader,  they  felt  safe  when  with  her,  and  no  imme- 
diate danger  threatened  them.  But  Joe  was  of  a 
different  mould.  He  sat  silent  and  sad,  always 
thinking  of  the  horrors  that  awaited  him  if  recap- 
tured. As  it  happened,  all  the  other  passengers 
were  people  who  sympathized  with  them,  under- 
standing them  to  be  a  band  of  fugitives,  and  they 
listened  with  tears,  as  Harriet  and  all  except  poor 
Joe  lifted  up  their  voices  and  sang  : 

I'm  on  the  way  to  Canada, 

That  cold  and  dreary  land, 
De  sad  effects  of  slavery, 

I  can't  no  longer  stand; 
I've  served  my  Master  all  my  days, 

Widout  a  dime  reward, 
And  now  I'm  forced  to  run  away, 

To  flee  de  lash,  abroad; 
Farewell,  ole  Master,  don't  think  hard  of  me, 
I'm  traveling  on  to  Canada,  where  all  de  slaves  are  free. 

De  hounds  are  baying  on  my  track, 

Ole  Master  comes  behind, 
Resolved  that  he  will  bring  me  back, 

Before  I  cross  the  line; 
4 


50  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

I'm  now  embarked  for  yonder  shore, 

Where  a  man's  a  man  by  law, 
De  iron  horse  will  bear  me  o'er, 
To  "  shake  de  lion's  paw  ;  " 
Oh,  righteous  Father,  wilt  thou  not  pity  me, 
And  help  me  on  to  Canada,  where  all  de  slaves  are  free. 

Oh  I  heard  Queen  Victoria  say, 

That  if  we  would  forsake, 
Our  native  land  of  slavery, 

And  come  across  de  lake; 
Dat  she  was  standing  on  de  shore, 

Wid  arms  extended  wide, 
To  give  us  all  a  peaceful  home, 

Beyond  de  rolling  tide; 
Farewell,  ole  Master,  don't  think  hard  of  me, 
I'm  traveling  on  to  Canada,  where  all  de  slaves  are  free. 

No  doubt  the  simple  creatures  with  her  expected 
to  cross  a  wide  lake  instead  of  a  rapid  river,  and  to 
see  Queen  Victoria  with  her  crown  upon  her  head, 
waiting  with  arms  extended  wide,  to  fold  them  all 
in  her  embrace.  There  was  now  but  "  one  wide 
river  to  cross,"  and  the  cars  rolled  on  to  the  bridge. 
In  the  distance  was  heard  the  roar  of  the  mighty 
cataract,  and  now  as  they  fleared  the  center  of  the 
bridge,  the   falls  might  be  clearly  seen.     Harriet 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  51 

was  anxious  to  have  her  companions  see  this  won- 
derful sight,  and  succeeded  in  bringing  all  to  the 
windows,  except  Joe.  But  Joe  still  sat  with  his 
head  on  his  hands,  and  not  even  the  wonders  of 
Niagara  could  draw  him  from  his  melancholy 
musings.  At  length  as  Harriet  knew  by  the  rise 
of  the  center  of  the  bridge,  and  the  descent  imme- 
diately after,  the  line  of  danger  was  passed  ;  she 
sprang  across  to  Joe's  side  of  the  car,  and  shook 
him  almost  out  of  his  seat,  as  she  shouted,  "  Joe  ! 
you've  shook  de  lion's  paw  !"  This  was  her  phrase 
for  having  entered  on  the  dominions  of  England. 
But  Joe  did  not  understand  this  figurative  expres- 
sion. Then  she  shook  him  again,  and  put  it  more 
plainly,  "  Joe,  you're  in  Queen  Victoria's  domin- 
ions !     You're  a  free  man  !  " 

Then  Joe  arose.  His  head  went  up,  he  raised 
his  hands  on  high,  and  his  eyes,  streaming  with 
tears,  to  heaven,  and  then  he  began  to  sing  and 
shout : 

"  Glory  to  God  and  Jesus  too, 

One  more  soul  got  safe; 
Oh,  go  and  carry  the  news, 

One  more  soul  got  safe." 


52  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

i(  Joe,  come  and  look  at  the  falls  !" 

"  Glory  to  God  and  Jesus  too, 

One  more  soul  got  safe." 

"Joe  !  it's  your  last  chance.     Come  and  see  de  falls  ! " 

"Glory  to  God  and  Jesus  too, 

One  more  soul  got  safe." 

And  this  was  all  the  answer.  The  train  stopped 
on  the  other  side  ;  and  the  first  feet  to  touch 
British  soil,  after  those  of  the  conductor,  were 
those  of  poor  Joe. 

Loud  roared  the  waters  of  Niagara,  but  louder 
still  ascended  the  Anthem  of  praise  from  the  over- 
flowing heart  of  the  freeman.  And  can  we  doubt 
that  the  strain  was  taken  up  by  angel  voices 
and  echoed  and  re-echoed  through  the  vaults  of 
heaven  : 

Glory  to  God  in  the  highest, 

Glory  to  God  and  Jesus  too, 
For  all  these  souls  now  safe. 

"  The  white  ladies  and  gentlemen  gathered 
round  him,"  said  Harriet,  "till  I  couldn't  see  Joe 
for  the  crowd,  only  I  heard  his  voice  singing, 
1  Glory  to  God  and  Jesus  too,'  louder  than  ever." 
A  sweet  young  lady  reached  over  her  fine  cambric 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  53 

handkerchief  to  him,  and  as  Joe  wiped  the  great 
tears  off  his  face,  he  said,  "  Tank  de  Lord  !  dere's 
only  one  more  journey  for  me  now,  and  dat's  to 
Hebben  ! "  As  we  bid  farewell  to  Joe  here,  I 
may  as  well  say  that  Harriet  saw  him  several  times 
after  that,  a  happy  and  industrious  freeman  in 
Canada.* 

On  one  of  her  journeys  to  the  North,  as  she  was 
piloting  a  company  of  refugees,  Harriet  came,  just 
as  morning  broke,  to  a  town,  where  a  colored  man 

*  In  my  recent  interview  with  Mr.  Oliver  Johnson  he  told 
me  of  an  interesting  incident  in  the  life  of  the  good  man, 
Thomas  Garrett. 

He  was  tried  twice  for  assisting  in  the  escape  of  fugitive 
slaves,  and  was  fined  so  heavily  that  everything  he  possessed 
was  taken  from  him  and  sold  to  pay  the  fine.  At  the  age  of 
sixty  he  was  left  without  a  penny,  but  he  went  bravely  to 
work,  and  in  some  measure  regained  his  fortune;  all  the  time 
aiding,  in  every  way  possible,  all  stray  fugitives  who  applied 
to  him  for  help. 

Again  he  was  arrested,  tried,  and  heavily  fined,  and  as  the 
Judge  of  the  United  States  Court  pronounced  the  sentence, 
he  said,  in  a  solemn  manner:  "  Garrett,  let  this  be  a  lesson  to 
you,  not  to  interfere  hereafter  with  the  cause  of  justice,  by 
helping  off  runaway  negroes." 


54  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

had  lived  whose  house  had  been  one  of  her  sta- 
tions of  the  under-ground,  or  unseen  railroad. 
They  reached  the  house,  and  leaving  her  party 
huddled  together  in  the  middle  of  the  street,  in  a 
pouring  rain,  Harriet  went  to  the  door,  and  gave 
the  peculiar  rap  which  was  her  customary  signal 
to  her  friends.  There  was  not  the  usual  ready 
response,  and  she  was  obliged  to  repeat  the  signal 
several  times.  At  length  a  window  was  raised, 
and  the  head  of  a  white  man  appeared,  with  the 
gruff  question,  "  Who  are  you  ? "  and  "  What  do 
you  want  ? "     Harriet  asked  after  her  friend,  and 

The  old  man,  who  had  stood  to  receive  his  sentence,  here 
raised  his  head,  and  fixing  his  eyes  on  "  the  Court,"  he  said  : 

"  Judge — thee  hasn't  left  me  a  dollar,  but  I  wish  to  say 
to  thee,  and  to  all  in  this  court  room,  that  if  anyone  knows 
of  a  fugitive  who  wants  a  shelter,  and  a  friend,  send  him  to 
Thomas  Gan'ett,  and  he  will  befriend  him  !  " 

Not  Luther  before  the  Council  at  Worms  was  grander  than 
this  brave  old  man  in  his  unswerving  adherence  to  principle. 
In  those  days  that  tried  men's  souls  there  were  many  men  like 
this  old  Quaker,  and  many  women  too,  who  would  have  gone 
cheerfully  to  the  fire  and  the  stake,  for  the  cause  of  suffering 
humanity  ;  men  and  women  these  "  of  whom  the  world  was 
not  worthy." 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  55 

was  told   that   he   had  been   obliged  to  leave  for 
"  harboring  niggers." 

Here  was  an  unforeseen  trouble  ;  day  was  break- 
ing, and  daylight  was  the  enemy  of  the  hunted 
and  flying  fugitives.  Their  faithful  leader  stood 
one  moment  in  the  street,  and  in  that  moment  she 
had  flashed  a  message  quicker  than  that  of  the 
telegraph  to  her  unseen  Protector,  and  the  answer 
came  as  quickly  ;  in  a  suggestion  to  her  of  an 
almost  forgotten  place  of  refuge.  Outside  of  the 
town  there  was  a  little  island  in  a  swamp,  where 
the  grass  grew  tall  and  rank,  and  where  no  human 
being  could  be  suspected  of  seeking  a  hiding 
place.  To  this  spot  she  conducted  her  party  ;  she 
waded  the  swamp,  carrying  in  a  basket  two  well- 
drugged  babies  (these  were  a  pair  of  little  twins, 
whom  I  have  since  seen  well  grown  young  women), 
and  the  rest  of  the  company  following.  She  or- 
dered them  to  lie  down  in  the  tall,  wet  grass,  and 
here  she  prayed  again,  and  waited  for  deliverance. 
The  poor  creatures  were  all  cold,  and  wet,  and 
hungry,  and  Harriet  did  not  dare  to  leave  them  to 
get  supplies  ;  for  no  doubt  the  man  at  whose 
house  she  had  knocked,  had  given  the  alarm  in  the 


$6  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

town  ;  and  officers  might  be  on  the  watch  for 
them.  They  were  truly  in  a  wretched  condition, 
but  Harriet's  faith  never  wavered,  her  silent  prayer 
still  ascended,  and  she  confidently  expected  help 
from  some  quarter  or  other. 

It  was  after  dusk  when  a  man  came  slowly  walk- 
ing along  the  solid  pathway  on  the  edge  of  the 
swamp.  He  was  clad  in  the  garb  of  a  Quaker  ; 
and  proved  to  be  a  "  friend  "  in  need  and  indeed  ; 
he  seemed  to  be  talking  to  himself,  but  ears  quick- 
ened by  sharp  practice  caught  the  words  he  was 
saying : 

"  My  wagon  stands  in  the  barn-yard  of  the  next 
farm  across  the  way.  The  horse  is  in  the  stable  ; 
the  harness  hangs  on  a  nail."  And  the  man  was 
gone.  Night  fell,  and  Harriet  stole  forth  to  the 
place  designated.  Not  only  a  wagon,  but  a  wagon 
well  provisioned  stood  in  the  yard ;  and  before 
many  minutes  the  party  were  rescued  from  their 
wretched  position,  and  were  on  their  way  rejoicing, 
to  the  next  town.  Here  dwelt  a  Quaker  whom 
Harriet  knew,  and  he  readily  took  charge  of  the 
horse  and  wagon,  and  no  doubt  returned  them  to 
their  owner.     How  the  good  man  who  thus  came 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  57 

to  their  rescue  had  received  any  intimation  of  their 
being  in  the  neighborhood  Harriet  never  knew. 
But  these  sudden  deliverances  never  seemed  to 
strike  her  as  at  all  strange  or  mysterious  ;  her 
prayer  was  the  prayer  of  faith,  and  she  expected  an 
answer. 

At  one  time,  as  she  was  on  her  way  South  for  a 
party  of  slaves,  she  was  stopped  not  far  from  the 
southern  shore  of  the  Chesapeake  Bay,  by  a  young 
woman,  who  had  been  for  some  days  in  hiding, 
and  was  anxiously  watching  for  "  Moses,"  who  was 
soon  expected  to  pass  that  way. 

This  girl  was  a  young  and  pretty  Mulatto, 
named  Tilly,  she  had  been  lady's  maid  and  dress- 
maker, for  her  Mistress.  She  was  engaged  to  a 
young  man  from  another  plantation,  but  he  had 
joined  one  of  Harriet's  parties,  and  gone  North. 
Tilly  was  to  have  gone  also  at  that  time,  but  had 
found  it  impossible  to  get  away.  Now  she  had 
learned  that  it  was  her  Master's  intention  to  give 
her  to  a  Negro  of  his  own  for  his  wife  ;  and  in 
fear  and  desperation,  she  made  a  strike  for  free- 
dom. Friends  had  concealed  her,  and  all  had 
been  on  the  watch  for  Moses. 


58  Harriet \  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

The  distress  and  excitement  of  the  poor  creature 
was  so  great,  and  she  begged  and  implored  in  such 
agonized  tones  that  Harriet  would  just  see  her 
safe  to  Baltimore,  where  she  knew  of  friends  who 
would  harbor  her,  and  help  her  on  her  way,  that 
Harriet  determined  to  turn  about,  and  endeavor 
to  take  the  poor  girl  thus  far  on  her  Northward 
journey. 

They  reached  the  shore  of  Chesapeake  Bay  too 
late  to  leave  that  night,  and  were  obliged  to  hide 
for  a  night  and  day  in  the  loft  of  an  old  out-house, 
where  every  sound  caused  poor  Tilly  to  tremble  as 
if  she  had  an  ague  fit.  When  the  time  for  the 
boat  to  leave  arrived,  a  sad  disappointment  awaited 
them.  The  boat  on  which  they  had  expected 
to  leave  was  disabled,  and  another  boat  was  to 
take  its  place.  At  that  time,  according  to  the 
law  of  Slavery,  no  Negro  could  leave  his  Mas- 
ter's land,  or  travel  anywhere,  without  a  pass, 
properly  signed  by  his  owner.  Of  course  this  poor 
fugitive  had  no  pass  ;  and  Harriet's  passes  were 
her  own  wits  ;  but  among  her  many  friends,  there 
was  one  who  seemed  to  have  influence  with  the 
clerk  of  the  boat,  on  which  she  expected  to  take 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  59 

passage ;  and  she  was  the  bearer  of  a  note  request- 
ing, or  commanding  him  to  take  these  two  women 
to  the  end  of  his  route,  asking  no  questions. 

Now  here  was  an  unforeseen  difficulty  ;  the  boat 
was  not  going  ;  the  clerk  was  not  there  ;  all  on  the 
other  boat  were  strangers.  But  forward  they  must 
go,  trusting  in  Providence.  As  they  walked  down 
to  the  boat,  a  gang  of  lazy  white  men  standing 
together,  began  to  make  comments  on  their  ap- 
pearance. 

"  Too  many  likely  looking  Niggers  traveling 
North,  about  these  days."  "  Wonder  if  these 
wenches  have  got  a  pass."  "Where  you  going, 
you  two  ? "  Tilly  trembled  and  cowered,  and 
clung  to  her  protector,  but  Harriet  put  on  a  bold 
front,  and  holding  the  note  given  her  by  her  friend 
in  her  hand,  and  supporting  her  terrified  charge, 
she  walked  by  the  men,  taking  no  notice  of  their 
insults. 

They  joined  the  stream  of  people  going  up  to  get 
their  tickets,  but  when  Harriet  asked  for  hers,  the 
clerk  eyed  her  suspiciously,  and  said  :  "  You  just 
stand  aside,  you  two;  I'll  attend  to  your  case  bye 
and  bye." 


60  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

Harriet  led  the  young  girl  to  the  bow  of  the 
boat,  where  they  were  alone,  and  here,  having  no 
other  help,  she,  as  was  her  custom,  addressed  her- 
self to  the  Lord.  Kneeling  on  the  seat,  and  sup- 
porting her  head  on  her  hands,  and  fixing  her  eyes 
on  the  waters  of  the  bay,  she  groaned: 

"  Oh,  Lord  !  You've  been  wid  me  in  six  troubles, 
dorit  desert  me  in  the  seventh  !  " 

"  Moses  !  Moses  !  "  cried  Tilly,  pulling  her  by 
the  sleeve.  "  Do  go  and  see  if  you  can't  get 
tickets  now. " 

"  Oh,  Lord  !  You've  been  wid  me  in  six  troubles, 
dotit  desert  me  in  the  seventh." 

And  so  Harriet's  story  goes  on  in  her  peculiarly 
graphic  manner,  till  at  length  in  terror  Tilly  ex- 
claimed: 

"  Oh,  Moses  !  the  man  is  coming.  What  shall 
we  do?" 

"  Oh,  Lord,  you've  been  wid  me  in  six  troubles  ! " 

Here  the  clerk  touched  her  on  the  shoulder, 
and  Tilly  thought  their  time  had  come,  but  all  he 
said  was:  f 

"  You  can  come  now  and  get  your  tickets,"  and 
their  troubles  were  over. 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  6 1 

What  changed  this  man  from  his  former  sus- 
picious and  antagonistic  aspect,  Harriet  never 
knew.  Of  course  she  said  it  was  "  de  Lord,"  but 
as  to  the  agency  he  used,  she  never  troubled  her- 
self to  inquire.  She  expected  deliverance  when  she 
prayed,  unless  the  Lord  had  ordered  otherwise, 
and  in  that  case  she  was  perfectly  willing  to  accept 
the  Divine  decree. 

When  surprise  was  expressed  at  her  courage 
and  daring,  or  at  her  unexpected  deliverances,  she 
would  always  reply  :  "  Don't,  I  tell  you,  Missus, 
'twan't  me,  'twas  de  Lord!  Jes'  so  long  as  he 
wanted  to  use  me,  he  would  take  keer  of  me,  an' 
when  he  didn't  want  me  no  longer,  I  was  ready 
to  go;  I  always  tole  him,  I'm  gwine  to  hole  stiddy 
on  to  you,  an'  you've  got  to  see  me  trou." 

There  came  a  time  when  Harriet,  who  had  al- 
ready brought  away  as  many  of  her  family  as  she 
could  reach,  besides  all  others  who  would  trust 
themselves  to  her  care,  became  much  troubled 
in  "  spirit "  about  three  of  her  brothers,  having 
had  an  intimation  of  some  kind  that  danger  was 
impending  over  them.  With  her  usual  wonderful 
cunning,  she  employed  a  friend  to  write  a  letter 


62  Harriet \  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

for  her  to  a  man  named  Jacob  Jackson,  who  lived 
near  the  plantation  where  these  brothers  were  at 
that  time  the  hired  slaves. 

.  Jacob  Jackson  was  a  free  negro,  who  could  both 
read  and  write,  and  who  was  under  suspicion  just 
then  of  having  a  hand  in  the  disappearance  of 
colored  "  property."  It  was  necessary,  therefore, 
to  exercise  great  caution  in  writing  to  him,  on 
his  own  account  as  well  as  that  of  the  writer, 
and  those  whom  she  wished  to  aid.  Jacob  had 
an  adopted  son,  William  Henry  Jackson,  also  free, 
who  had  come  North.  Harriet  determined  to  sign 
her  letter  with  William  Henry's  name,  feeling  sure 
that  Jacob  would  be  clever  enough  to  understand 
by  her  peculiar  phraseology,  the  meaning  she  in- 
tended to  convey. 

e  Therefore,  after  speaking  of  indifferent  matters, 
the  letter  went  on  :  "  Read  my  letter  to  the  old 
folks,  and  give  my  love  to  them,  and  tell  my 
brothers  to  be  always  watching  unto  prayer,  and 
when  the  good  old  ship  of  Zion  comes  along,  to  be 
ready  to  step  on  board."  This  letter  was  signed 
"  William  Henry  Jackson." 

Jacob  was   not   allowed   to   have   his   letters  in 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  63 

those  days,  until  the  self -elected  inspectors  of  cor- 
respondence had  had  the  perusal  of  them,  and 
consulted  over  their  secret  meaning.  These  wise- 
acres therefore  assembled,  wiped  their  glasses 
carefully,  put  them  on,  and  proceeded  to  examine 
this  suspicious  document.  What  it  meant  they 
could  not  imagine.  William  Henry  Jackson  had 
no  parents,  or  brothers,  and  the  letter  was  incom- 
prehensible. Study  as  they  might,  no  light  dawned 
upon  them,  but  their  suspicions  became  stronger, 
and  they  were  sure  the  letter  meant  mischief. 

White  genius  having  exhausted  itself,  black 
genius  was  brought  into  requisition.  Jacob  was 
sent  for,  and  the  letter  was  placed  in  his  hands. 
He  read  between  the  lines,  and  comprehended 
the  hidden  meaning  at  once.  "  Moses  "  had  dic- 
tated this  letter,  and  Moses  was  coming.  The 
brothers  must  be  on  the  watch,  and  ready  to  join 
her  at  a  moment's  warning.  But  Moses  must 
hurry,  for  the  word  had  gone  forth  that  the 
brothers  were  to  be  sent  South,  and  the  chain- 
gang  was  being  collected. 

Jacob  read  the  letter  slowly,  threw  it  down, 
and   said  :    "Dat   letter  can't    be    meant   for  me 


64  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

nohow;  I  can't  make  head  or  tail  of  it."  And 
he  walked  off  and  took  immediate  measures  to 
let  Harriet's  brothers  know  that  she  was  on  the 
way,  and  they  must  be  ready  at  the  given  signal 
to  start  for  the  North. 

It  was  the  day  before  Christmas  when  Harriet 
arrived,  and  the  brothers  were  to  have  started  on 
the  day  after  Christmas  for  the  South.  They 
started  on  Christmas-day,  but  with  their  faces 
turned  in  another  direction,  and  instead  of  the 
chain-gang  and  the  whip,  they  had  the  North 
Star  for  their  guide,  and  the  Moses  of  her  people 
for  their  leader. 

As  usual,  this  mysterious  woman  appeared  sud- 
denly, and  word  was  conveyed  to  the  brothers 
that  they  were  to  be  at  Old  Ben's  cabin  on  Satur- 
day night,  ready  to  start.  "  Old  Ben  "  was  their 
father,  and  as  the  parents  were  not  of  much  use 
now,  Harriet  was  pretty  certain  that  they  would 
not  be  sent  away,  and  so  she  left  them  till  she 
phad  rescued  the  younger  and  more  valuable  mem- 
bers of  the  family. 

Quite  a  number  had  assembled  at  the  cabin 
when  the  hour  came  for  starting,  but  one  brother 


Harriet ',  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  65 

was  missing.  Something  had  detained  John  ;  but 
when  the  time  for  starting  had  struck,  Harriet's 
word  was  "forward,"  and  she  "nebber  waited  for? 
no  one." 

Poor  John  was  ready  to  start  from  his  cabin  in 
the  negro  quarter  when  his  wife  was  taken  ill,  and 
in  an  hour  or  two  another  little  heir  to  the  bless- 
ings of  slavery  had  come  into  the  world. 

John  must  go  off  for  a  "  Granny,"  and  being  a 
faithful,  affectionate  creature,  he  could  not  leave 
his  wife  under  the  present  circumstances. 

After  the  birth  of  the  child  he  determined  to 
start.  The  North  and  freedom,  or  the  South  and 
life-long  slavery,  were  the  alternatives  before  him  ; 
and  this  was  his  last  chance.  If  he  once  reached 
the  North,  he  hoped  with  the  help  of  Moses  to 
bring  his  wife  and  children  there. 

Again  and  again  he  tried  to  start  out  of  the 
door,  but  a  watchful  eye  was  on  him,  and  he  was 
always  arrested  by  the  question,  "  Where  you 
gwine,  John  ?  "  His  wife  had  not  been  informed  of 
the  danger  hanging  over  his  head,  but  she  knew  he 
was  uneasy,  and  she  feared  he  was  meditating  a 
plan  of  escape.  John  told  her  he  was  going  to  try 
5 


66          Harriet^  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

to  get  hired  out  on  Christmas  to  another  man,  as 
that  was  the  day  on  which  such  changes  were 
made. 

He  left  the  house  but  stood  near  the  window 
listening.  He  heard  his  wife  sobbing  and  moan- 
ing, and  not  being  able  to  endure  it  he  went  back 
to  her.  "Oh,  John  !  "  she  cried,  "you's  gwine  to 
lebe  me  !  1  know  it !  but  wherebber  you  go,  John, 
don't  forgit  me  an'  de  little  children." 

John  assured  her  that  wherever  he  went  she 
should  come.  He  might  not  come  for  her,  but  he 
would  send  Moses,  and  then  he  hurried  away.  He 
had  many  miles  to  walk  to  his  old  father's  cabin, 
where  he  knew  the  others  would  be  waiting  for 
him,  and  at  daybreak  he  overtook  them  in  the 
"  fodder  house,"  not  far  from  the  home  of  the  old 
people. 

At  that  time  Harriet  had  not  seen  her  mother 
for  six  years,  but  she  did  not  dare  to  let  her  know 
that  four  of  her  children  were  so  near  her  on  their 
way  to  the  North,  for  she  would  have  raised  such 
an  uproar  in  her  efforts  to  detain  them,  that  the 
whole  neighborhood  would  have  been  aroused. 

The  poor  old  woman  had  been  expecting  her 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  6j 

sons  to  spend  Christmas  with  her  as  usual.  She* 
had  been  hard  at  work  in  preparation  for  their 
arrival.  The  fatted  pig  had  been  killed,  and  had 
been  converted  into  every  form  possible  to  the  flesh 
of  swine  ;  pork,  bacon  and  sausages  were  ready,  but 
the  boys  did  not  come,  and  there  she  sat  watching 
and  waiting. 

In  the  night  when  Harriet  with  two  of  her 
brothers,  and  two  other  fugitives  who  had  joined 
them  arrived  at  the  "fodder  house,"  they  were 
exhausted  and  well-nigh  famished.  They  sent  the 
two  strange  men  up  to  the  cabin  to  try  to  rouse 
"Old  Ben,"  but  not  to  let  their  mother  know  that 
her  children  were  so  near  her. 

The  men  succeeded  in  rousing  Old  Ben,  who 
came  out  quietly,  and  as  soon  as  he  heard  their 
story,  went  back  into  the  house,  gathered  together 
a  quantity  of  provisions,  and  came  down  to  the 
fodder  house.  He  placed  the  provisions  inside  the 
door,  saying  a  few  words  of  welcome  to  his  chil- 
dren, but  taking  care  not  to  see  them.  "  I  know 
what'll  come  of  dis,"  he  said,  "  an'  I  ain't  gwine  to 
see  my  chillen,  no  how."  The  close  espionage  un- 
der which  these  poor  creatures  dwelt,  engendered 


68  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

in  them  a  cunning  and  artifice,  which  to  them 
seemed  only  a  fair  and  right  attempt  on  their  part, 
to  cope  with  power  and  cruelty  constantly  in  force 
against  them. 

Up  among  the  ears  of  corn  lay  the  old  man's 
children,  and  one  of  them  he  had  not  seen  for  six 
years.  It  rained  in  torrents  all  that  Sunday,  and 
there  they  lay  among  the  corn,  for  they  could  not 
start  till  night.  At  about  daybreak  John  had 
joined  them.  There  were  wide  chinks  in  the 
boards  of  the  fodder  house,  and  through  these 
they  could  see  the  cabin  of  the  old  folks,  now 
quite  alone  in  their  old  age.  All  day  long,  every 
few  minutes,  they  would  see  the  old  woman  come 
out,  and  shading  her  eyes  with  her  hand,  take 
a  long  look  down  the  road  to  see  if  "  de  boys  " 
were  coming,  and  then  with  a  sad  and  disappointed 
air  she  would  turn  back  into  the  cabin,  and  they 
could  almost  hear  her  sigh  as  she  did  so. 

What  had  become  of  the  boys  ?  Had  they  been 
sold  off  down  South  ?  Had  they  tried  to  escape 
and  been  retaken  ?  Would  she  never  see  them  or 
hear  of  them  more  ? 

I  have  often  heard    it  said  by  Southern  people 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  69 

that  "  niggers  had  no  feeling  ;  they  did  not  care  * 
when  their  children  were  taken  from  them."  I 
have  seen  enough  of  them  to  know  that  their  love 
for  their  offspring  is  quite  equal  to  that  of  the 
"  superior  race,"  and  it  is  enough  to  hear  the  tale 
of  Harriet's  endurance  and  self-sacrifice  to  rescue 
her  brothers  and  sisters,  to  convince  one  that  a 
heart,  truer  and  more  loving  than  that  of  many  a 
white  woman,  dwelt  in  her  bosom.  I  am  quite  will- 
ing to  acknowledge  that  she  was  almost  an  anom- 
aly among  her  people,  but  I  have  known  many  of 
her  family,  and  so  far  as  I  can  judge  they  all  seem 
to  be  peculiarly  intelligent,  upright  and  religious 
people,  and  to  have  a  strong  feeling  of  family  af- 
fection. There  may  be  many  among  the  colored 
race  like  them  ;  certainly  all  should  not  be  judged 
by  the  idle,  miserable  darkies  who  have  swarmed 
about  Washington  and  other  cities  since  the  War. 

Two  or  three  times  while  the  group  of  fugitives 
were  concealed  in  this  loft  of  the  fodder  house,  the 
old  man  came  down  and  pushed  food  inside  the 
door,  and  after  nightfall  he  came  again  to  accom- 
pany his  children  as  far  as  he  dared,  upon  their 
journey.     When  he  reached  the  fodder  house,  he 


/O  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

'tied  a  handkerchief  tight  about  his  eyes,  and  one 
of  his  sons  taking  him  by  one  arm,  and  Harriet 
taking  him  by  the  other,  they  went  on  their  way 
talking  in  low  tones  together,  asking  and  answer- 
ing questions  as  to  relatives  and  friends. 

The  time  of  parting  came,  and  they  bade  him 
farewell,  and  left  him  standing  in  the  middle  of  the 
road.  When  he  could  no  longer  hear  their  foot- 
steps he  turned  back,  and  taking  the  handkerchief 
from  his  eyes,  he  hastened  home. 

But  before  Harriet  and  her  brothers  left,  they  had 
gone  up  to  the  cabin  during  the  evening  to  take  a 
silent  farewell  of  the  poor  old  mother.  Through 
the  little  window  of  the  cabin  they  saw  her  sitting 
by  the  fire,  her  head  on  her  hand,  rocking  back 
and  forth,  as  was  her  way  when  she  was  in  great 
trouble;  praying,  no  doubt,  and  wondering  what 
had  become  of  her  children,  and  what  new  evil  had 
befallen  them. 

With  streaming  eyes,  they  watched  her  for  ten  or 
fifteen  minutes;  but  time  was  precious,  and  they 
must  reach  their  next  under-ground  station  before 
daylight,  and  so  they  turned  sadly  away. 

When  Christmas  was  over,  and  the  men  had  not 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  J I 

returned,  there  began  to  be  no  small  stir  in  the 
plantation  from  which  they  had  escaped.  The  first 
place  to  search,  of  course,  was  the  home  of  the  old 
people.  At  the  "  Big  House "  nothing  had  been 
seen  of  them.  The  master  said  "  they  had  gener- 
ally come  up  there  to  see  the  house  servants,  when 
they  came  for  Christmas,  but  this  time  they  hadn't 
been  round  at  all.  Better  go  down  to  Old  Ben's, 
and  ask  him." 

They  went  to  Old  Ben's.  No  one  was  at  home 
but  "  Old  Rit,"  the  mother.  She  said  "  not  one  of 
'em  came  dis  Christmas.  She  was  looking  for  'em 
all  day,  an'  her  heart  was  mos'  broke  about  'em." 

Old  Ben  was  found  and  questioned  about  his 
sons.  Old  Ben  said,  "  He  hadn't  seen  one  of  'em  dis 
Christmas."  With  all  his  deep  religious  feeling, 
Old  Ben  thought  that  in  such  a  case  as  this,  it  was 
enough  for  him  to  keep  to  the  letter,  and  let  the 
man  hunters  find  his  sons  if  they  could.  Old  Ben 
knew  the  Old  Testament  stories  well.  Perhaps  he* 
thought  of  Rahab  who  hid  the  spies,  and  received  a 
commendation  for  it.  Perhaps  of  Jacob  and  Abra- 
ham, and  some  of  their  rather  questionable  pro- 
ceedings.    He  knew  the  New  Testament  also,  but 


J2  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

I  think  perhaps  he  thought  the  kind  and  loving 
Saviour  would  have  said  to  him,  "  Neither  do  I 
condemn  thee."  I  doubt  if  he  had  read  Mrs.  Opie, 
and  I  wonder  what  judgment  that  excellent  woman 
would  have  given  in  a  case  like  this. 

These  poor  fugitives,  hunted  like  partridges  upon  * 
the  mountains,  or  like  the  timid  fox  by  the  eager 
sportsman,  were  obliged  in  self-defense  to  meet 
cunning  with  cunning,  and  to  borrow  from  the 
birds  and  animals  their  mode  of  eluding  their  pur- 
suers by  any  device  which  in  the  exigency  of  the 
case  might  present  itself  to  them.  They  had  a 
creed  of  their  own,  and  a  code  of  morals  which  we 
dare  not  criticise  till  we  find  our  own  lives  and 
those  of  our  dear  ones  similarly  imperiled. 

One  of  Harriet's  other  brothers  had  long  been 
attached  to  a  pretty  mulatto  girl  named  Catherine, 
who  was  owned  by  another  master;  but  this  man 
had  other  views  for  her,  and  would  not  let  her  marry 
William  Henry.  On  one  of  Harriet's  journeys  this 
brother  had  made  up  his  mind  to  make  one  of  her 
next  party  to  the  North,  and  that  Catherine  should 
go  also.  He  went  to  a  tailor's  and  bought  a  new 
suit  of  clothes  for  a  small  person,  and  concealed 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  73 

them  inside  the  fence  of  the  garden  of  Catherine's 
master.  This  garden  ran  down  to  the  bank  of  a 
little  stream,  and  Catherine  had  been  notified  where 
to  find  the  clothes.  When  the  time  came  to  get 
ready,  Catherine  boldly  walked  down  to  the  foot  of 
the  garden,  took  up  the  bundle,  and  hiding  under 
the  bank,  she  put  on  the  man's  garments  and  sent 
her  own  floating  down  the  stream. 

She  was  soon  missed,  and  all  the  girls  in  the 
house  were  set  to  looking  for  Catherine.  Presently 
they  saw  coming  up  from  the  river  a  well-dressed 
little  darkey  boy,  and  they  all  ceased  looking  for 
Catherine,  and  stared  at  him.  He  walked  directly 
by  them,  round  the  house,  and  out  of  the  gate, 
without  the  slightest  suspicion  being  excited  as  to 
who  he  was.  In  a  few  weeks  from  that  time,  this 
party  were  all  safe  in  Canada. 

,  William  Henry  died  in  Canada,  but  I  have  seen 
and  talked  with  Catherine  at  Harriet's  house. 

I  am  not  quite  certain  which  company  it  was 
that  was  under  her  guidance  on  their  Northward 
way,  but  at  one  time  when  a  number  of  men  were 
following  her,  she  received  one  of  her  sudden  in- 
timations that  danger  was  ahead.     "  Chillen,"  she 


74  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

said,  "  we  must  stop  here  and  cross  dis  ribber." 
They  were  on  the  bank  of  a  stream  of  some  width, 
and  apparently  a  deep  and  rapid  one.  The  men 
were  afraid  to  cross;  there  was  no  bridge  and  no 
boat;  but  like  her  great  pattern,  she  went  forward 
into  the  waters,  and  the  men  not  knowing  what  else 
to  do,  followed,  but  with  fear  and  trembling.  The 
stream  did  not  divide  to  make  a  way  for  them  to 
cross  over,  but  to  her  was  literally  fulfilled  the 
promise  : 

' '  When  through  the  deep  waters  I  cause  thee  to  go, 
The  rivers  of  sorrow  shall  not  overflow." 

"For,"  said  she,  "Missus,  de  water  never  came 
above  my  chin  ;  when  we  thought  surely  we  were 
all  going  under,  it  became  shallower  and  shallower, 
and  we  came  out  safe  on  the  odder  side."  Then 
there  was  another  stream  to  cross,  which  was  also 
passed  in  safety.  They  found  afterward  that  a 
few  rods  ahead  of  them  the  advertisement  of  these 
escaping  fugitives  was  posted  up,  and  the  officers, 
forewarned  of  their  coming,  were  waiting  for  them. 
But  though  the  Lord  thus  marvelously  protected 
her  from  capture,  she  did  not  always  escape  the 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  75 

consequences  of  exposure  like  this.  It  was  in 
March  that  this  passage  of  the  streams  was  ef- 
fected, and  the  weather  was  raw  and  cold;  Harriet 
traveled  a  long  distance  in  her  wet  clothing,  and 
was  afterward  very  ill  for  a  long  time  with  a  very 
severe  cold.  I  have  often  heard  her  tell  this  story; 
but  some  of  the  incidents,  particularly  that  of  her 
illness,  were  not  mentioned  by  herself,  but  were 
written  me  by  friend  Garrett. 

I  hardly  know  how  to  approach  the  subject  of 
the  spiritual  experiences  of  my  sable  heroine. 
They  seem  so  to  enter  into  the  realm  of  the  super- 
natural, that  I  can  hardly  wonder  that  those  who 
never  knew  her  are  ready  to  throw  discredit  upon 
the  story.  Ridicule  has  been  cast  upon  the  whole 
tale  of  her  adventures  by  the  advocates  of  human 
slavery ;  and  perhaps  by  those  who  would  tell 
with  awe-struck  countenance  some  tale  of  ghostly 
visitation,  or  spiritual  manifestation,  at  a  dimly 
lighted  "seance" 

Had  I  not  known  so  well  her  deeply  religious 
character,  and  her  conscientious  veracity,  and  had  I 
not  since  the  war,  and  when  she  was  an  inmate  of 
my  own  house,  seen  such  remarkable  instances  of 


*j6         Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

what  seemed  to  be  her  direct  intercourse  with 
heaven,  I  should  not  dare  to  risk  my  own  character 
for  veracity  by  making  these  things  public  in  this 
manner. 

But  when  I  add  that  I  have  the  strongest  testi- 
monials to  her  character  for  integrity  from  Will- 
iam H.  Seward,  Gerritt  Smith,  Wendell  Phillips, 
Fred.  Douglass,  and  my  brother,  Prof.  S.  M.  Hop- 
kins, who  has  known  her  for  many  years,  I  do  not 
fear  to  brave  the  incredulity  of  any  reader. 

Governor  Seward  wrote  of  her  : 

"I  have  known  Harriet  long,  and  a  nobler, 
higher  spirit,  or  a  truer,  seldom  dwells  in  human 
form." 

Gerritt  Smith,  the  distinguished  philanthropist, 
was  so  kind  as  to  write  me  expressing  his  gratifica- 
tion that  I  had  undertaken  this  work,  and  added  : 

"  I  have  often  listened  to  Harriet  with  delight 
on  her  visits  to  my  family,  and  I  am  convinced 
that  she  is  not  only  truthful,  but  that  she  has  a 
rare  discernment,  and  a  deep  and  sublime  philan- 
thropy." 

Wendell  Phillips  wrote  me,  mentioning  that  in 
Boston,  Harriet  earned  the  confidence  and  admira- 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  J  J 

tion  of  all  those  who  were  working  for  freedom  ; 
and  speaking  of  her  labors  during  the  war,  he 
added  :  "  In  my  opinion  there  are  few  captains, 
perhaps  few  colonels,  who  have  done  more  for  the 
loyal  cause  since  the  war  began,  and  few  men  who 
did  more  before  that  time,  for  the  colored  race, 
than  our  fearless  and  sagacious  friend." 

Many  other  letters  I  received ;  from  Mr.  Sanborn, 
Secretary  of  the  Massachusetts  Board  of  Charities, 
from  Fred.  Douglass,  from  Rev.  Henry  Fowler, 
and  from  Union  officers  at  the  South  during  the 
war,  all  speaking  in  the  highest  praise  and  admi- 
ration of  the  character  and  labors  of  my  black 
heroine. 

Many  of  her  passes  also  were  sent  me  ;  in  which 
she  is  spoken  of  as  "  Moses,"  for  by  that  name  she 
was  universally  known.  For  the  story  of  her  heroic 
deeds  had  gone  before  her,  and  the  testimony  of 
all  who  knew  her  accorded  with  the  words  of  Mr. 
Seward  : 

"  The  cause  of  freedom  owes  her  much  ;  the 
country  owes  her  much."  And  yet  the  country 
was  not  willing  to  pay  her  anything.  Mr.  Seward's 
efforts,   seconded  by  other  distinguished  men,  to 


yS  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

get  a  pension  for  her,  were  sneered  at  in  Congress 
as  absurd  and  quixotic,  and  the  effort  failed. 

Secretary  Seward,  from  whom  Harriet  purchased 
her  little  place  near  Auburn,  died.  The  place  had 
been  mortgaged  when  this  noble  woman  left  her 
home,  and  threw  herself  into  the  work  needed  for 
the  Union  cause  ;  the  mortgage  was  to  be  fore- 
closed. The  old  parents,  then  nearly  approaching 
their  centennial  year,  were  to  be  turned  out  to  die 
in  a  poor-house,  when  the  sudden  determination 
was  taken  to  send  out  a  little  sketch  of  her  life  to 
the  benevolent  public,  in  the  hope  of  redeeming 
the  little  home.  This  object,  through  the  kindness 
of  friends,  was  accomplished.  The  old  people 
died  in  Harriet's  own  home,  breathing  blessings 
upon  her  for  her  devotion  to  them. 

Now  another  necessity  has  arisen,  and  our  sable 
friend,  who  never  has  been  known  to  beg  for  her- 
self, asks  once  more  for  help  in  accomplishing  a 
favorite  project  for  the  good  of  her  people.  This, 
as  she  says,  is  "her  last  work,  and  she  only  prays 
de  Lord  to  let  her  live  till  it  is  well  started,  and 
<len  she  is  ready  to  go."  This  work  is  the  building 
of  a  hospital  for  old  and  disabled  colored  people  ; 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  yg 

and  in  this  she  has  already  had  the  sympathy  and 
aid  of  the  good  people  of  Auburn  ;  the  mayor  and 
his  noble  wife  having  given  her  great  assistance  in 
the  meetings  she  has  held  in  aid  of  this  object.  It 
is  partly  to  aid  her  in  this  work,  on  which  she  has 
so  set  her  heart,  that  this  story  of  her  life  and  labors 
is  being  re-written. 

At  one  time,  when  she  felt  called  upon  to  go 
down  for  some  company  of  slaves,  she  was,  as  she 
knew,  watched  for  everywhere  (for  there  had  been 
an  excited  meeting  of  slave-holders,  and  they  were 
determined  to  catch  her,  dead  or  alive),  her  friends 
gathered  round  her,  imploring  her  not  to  go  on  in 
the  face  of  danger  and  death,  for  they  were  sure 
she  would  never  be  allowed  to  return.  And  this 
was  her  answer : 

"  Now  look  yer  !  John  saw  de  City,  didn't  he  ? " 
"Yes,  John  saw  de  City."  "Well,  what  did  he 
see  ?  He  saw  twelve  gates,  didn't  he  ?  Three  of 
dose  gates  was  on  de  north  ;  three  of  'em  was  on 
de  east  ;  an'  three  of  'em  was  on  de  west ;  but 
dere  was  three  more,  an'  dem  was  on  de  south;  an' 
I  reckon,  if  dey  kill  me  down  dere,  I'll  git  into  one 
of  dem  gates,  don't  you  ? " 


So  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

Whether  Harriet's  ideas  of  the  geographical 
bearings  of  the  gates  of  the  Celestial  City  as  seen 
in  the  apocalyptic  vision,  were  correct  or  not,  we 
cannot  doubt  that  she  was  right  in  the  deduction 
her  faith  drew  from  them  ;  and  that  somewhere, 
whether  North,  East,  South,  or  West,  to  our  dim 
vision,  there  is  a  gate  that  will  be  opened  for  our 
good  Harriet,  where  the  welcome  will  be  given, 
"  Come  in,  thou  blessed  of  my  Father." 

It  is  a  peculiarity  of  Harriet,  that  she  had  sel- 
dom been  known  to  intimate  a  wish  that  anything 
should  be  given  to  herself  ;  but  when  her  people 
are  in  need,  no  scruples  of  delicacy  stand  in  the 
way  of  her  petitions,  nay,  almost  her  demands  for 
help. 

When,  after  rescuing  so  many  others,  and  all  of 
her  brothers  and  sisters  that  could  be  reached,  with 
their  children,  she  received  an  intimation  in  some 
mysterious  or  supernatural  way,  that  the  old  peo- 
ple were  in  trouble  and  needed  her,  she  asked  the 
Lord  where  she  should  go  for  the  money  to  enable 
her  to  go  for  them.  She  was  in  some  way,  as  she 
supposed,  directed  to  the  office  of  a  certain  gentle- 
man, a  friend  of  the  slaves,  in  New  York. 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  8 1 

When  she  left  the  house  of  the  friends  with 
whom  she  was  staying,  she  said  :    "  I'm  gwine  to 

Mr. 's  office,  an'  I   ain't  gwine   to  lebe 

dere,  an'  I  ain't  gwine  to  eat  or  drink,  till  I  get 
money  enough  to  take  me  down  after  de  ole  peo- 
ple." 

She  went  into  this  gentleman's  office. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Harriet  ?  What  do  you 
want  ?  "  was  the  first  greeting. 

"  I  want  some  money,  sir." 

"  You  do  I     How  much  do  you  want  ?  " 

"  I  want  twenty  dollars,  sir  !  " 

"  Twenty  dollars !  Who  told  you  to  come  here 
for  twenty  dollars  !  " 

"  De  Lord  tole  me,  sir." 

"He  did;  well  I  guess  the  Lord's  mistaken  this 
time." 

"  No,  sir ;  de  Lord's  nebber  mistaken  !  Anyhow 
I'm  gwine  to  sit  here  till  I  get  it." 

So  she  sat  down  and  went  to  sleep.  All  the 
morning,  and  all  the  afternoon,  she  sat  there  still  ; 
sometimes  sleeping,  sometimes  rousing  up,  often 
finding  the  office  full  of  gentlemen  ;  sometimes 
finding  herself  alone. 


82  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

Many  fugitives  were  passing  through  New  York 
at  this  time,  and  those  who  came  in  supposed  her 
to  be  one  of  them,  tired  out,  and  resting.  Some- 
times she  would  be  roused  up  with  the  words : 

"  Come,  Harriet  !  You  had  better  go  ;  there's 
no  money  for  you  here." 

"No,  sir  ;  I'm  not  gwine  to  stir  from  here  till  I 
git  my  twenty  dollars  !  " 

She  does  not  know  all  that  happened,  for  deep 
sleep  fell  upon  her  ;  probably  one  of  the  turns  of 
somnolency  to  which  she  has  always  been  subject  ; 
but  without  doubt  her  story  was  whispered  from 
one  to  another,  and  as  her  name  and  exploits  were 
well  known  to  many  persons,  the  sympathies  of 
some  of  those  visitors  to  the  office  were  aroused  ; 
at  all  events  she  came  to  full  consciousness,  at  last, 
to  find  herself  the  happy  possessor  of  sixty  dollars, 
the  contribution  of  these  strangers.  She  went  on 
her  way  rejoicing  to  bring  her  old  parents  from 
the  land  of  bondage. 

When  she  reached  their  home,  she  found  that 
her  old  father  was  to  be  tried  the  next  Monday 
for  helping  off  slaves.  And  so,  as  she  says  in  her 
forcible   language,    "I   just   removed    my  father's 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  83 

trial  to  a   higher   court,  and   brought  him   off   to 
Canada." 

The  manner   of   their  escape  is  detailed  in  the 
following  letter  from  friend  Garrett  : 

Wilmington,  6th  Mo.,  1868. 
My  Friend  :  Thy  favor  of  the  12th  reached 
me  yesterday,  requesting  such  reminiscences  as  I 
could  give  respecting  the  remarkable  labors  of 
Harriet  Tubman,  in  aiding  her  colored  friends 
from  bondage.  I  may  begin  by  saying,  living  as  I 
have  in  a  slave  State,  and  the  laws  being  very 
severe  where  any  proof  could  be  made  of  any  one 
aiding  slaves  on  their  way  to  freedom,  I  have  not 
felt  at  liberty  to  keep  any  written  word  of  Har- 
riet's or  my  own  labors,  except  in  numbering  those 
whom  I  have  aided.  For  that  reason  I  cannot 
furnish  so  interesting  an  account  of  Harriet's 
labors  as  I  otherwise  could,  and  now  would  be 
glad  to  do  ;  for  in  truth  I  never  met  with  any  per- 
son, of  any  color,  who  had  more  confidence  in  the 
voice  of  God,  as  spoken  direct  to  her  soul.  She 
has  frequently  told  me  that  she  talked  with  God, 
and  he  talked  with  her  every  day  of  her  life,  and 


84         Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

she  has  declared  to  me  that  she  felt  no  more  fear 
of  being  arrested  by  her  former  master,  or  any  other 
person,  when  in  his  immediate  neighborhood,  than 
she  did  in  the  State  of  New  York,  or  Canada,  for  she 
said  she  never  ventured  only  where  God  sent  her, 
and  her  faith  in  the  Supreme  Power  truly  was  great. 
I  have  now  been  confined  to  my  room  with  in- 
disposition more  than  four  weeks,  and  cannot  sit 
to  write  much  ;  but  I  feel  so  much  interested  in 
Harriet,  that  I  will  try  to  give  some  of  the  most 
remarkable  incidents  that  now  present  themselves 
to  my  mind.  The  date  of  the  commencement  of 
her  labors,  I  cannot  certainly  give  ;  but  I  think  it 
must  have  been  about  1845  ;  from  that  time  till 
i860,  I  think  she  must  have  brought  from  the 
neighborhood  where  she  had  been  held  as  a  slave, 
from  60  to  80  persons,*  from  Maryland,  some  80 
miles  from  here.  No  slave  who  placed  himself 
under  her  care^jwas  _eyer  .arrested  that  I  have 
heard^jofj  she  mostly  had  her  regular  stopping 
places  on  her  route  ;  but  in  one  instance,  when  she 
had  several  stout  men  with  her,  some  30  miles 
below  here,  she  said  that  God  told  her  to  stop, 
which  she  did  ;  and  then  asked  him  what  she  must 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  85 

do.  He  told  her  to  leave  the  road,  and  turn  to  the 
left ;  she  obeyed,  and  soon  came  to  a  small  stream 
of  tide  water  ;  there  was  no  boat,  no  bridge  ;  she 
again  inquired  of  her  Guide  what  she  was  to  do. 
She  was  told  to  go  through.  It  was  cold,  in  the 
month  of  March  ;  but  having  confidence  in  her 
Guide,  she  went  in ;  the  water  came  up  to  her 
armpits  ;  the  men  refused  to  follow  till  they  saw 
her  safe  on  the  opposite  shore.  They  then  fol- 
lowed, and,  if  I  mistake  not,  she  had  soon  to  wade 
a  second  stream  ;  soon  after  which  she  came  to  a 
cabin  of  colored  people,  who  took  them  all  in,  put 
them  to  bed,  and  dried  their  clothes,  ready  to  pro- 
ceed next  night  on  their  journey.  Harriet  had 
run  out  of  money,  and  gave  them  some  of  her 
underclothing  to  pay  for  their  kindness.  When 
she  called  on  me  two  days  after,  she  was  so  hoarse 
she  could  hardly  speak,  and  was  also  suffering  with 
violent  toothache.  The  strange  part  of  the  story 
we  found  to  be,  that  the  masters  of  these  men 
had  put  up  the  previous  day,  at  the  railroad  sta- 
tion near  where  she  left,  an  advertisement  for 
them,  offering  a  large  reward  for  their  apprehen- 
sion ;  but  they  made  a  safe  exit.     She  at  one  time 


86  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

brought  as  many  as  seven  or  eight,  several  of 
whom  were  women  and  children.  She  was  well 
known  here  in  Chester  County  and  Philadelphia, 
and  respected  by  all  true  abolitionists.  I  had  been 
in  the  habit  of  furnishing  her  and  those  who  ac- 
companied her,  as  she  returned  from  her  acts  of 
mercy,  with  new  shoes  ;  and  on  one  occasion  when 
I  had  not  seen  her  for  three  months,  she  came  into 
my  store.  I  said,  "  Harriet,  I  am  glad  to  see  thee  ! 
I  suppose  thee  wants  a  pair  of  new  shoes."  Her 
reply  was,  "  I  want  more  than  that."  I,  in  jest, 
said,  "  I  have  always  been  liberal  with  thee,  and 
wish  to  be ;  but  I  am  not  rich,  and  cannot  afford 
to  give  much."  Her  reply  was:  "God  tells  me 
you  have  money  for  me."  I  asked  her  "if  God 
never  deceived  her  ?  "  She  said,  "  No  !  "  "  Well  ! 
how  much  does  thee  want  ?  "  After  studying  a 
moment,  she  said  :  "  About  twenty-three  dollars." 
I  then  gave  her  twenty-four  dollars  and  some  odd 
cents,  the  net  proceeds  of  five  pounds  sterling, 
received  through  Eliza  Wigham,  of  Scotland,  for 
t  her.  I  had  given  some  accounts  of  Harriet's 
labor  to  the  Anti-Slavery  Society  of  Edinburgh,  of 
which  Eliza  Wigham  was  Secretary.     On  the  read- 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  87 

ing  of  my  letter,  a  gentleman  present  said  he  would 
send  Harriet  four  pounds  if  he  knew  of  any  way  to 
get  it  to  her.  Eliza  Wigham  offered  to  forward  it 
to  me  for  her,  and  that  was  the  first  money  ever 
received  by  me  for  her.  Some  twelve  months 
after,  she  called  on  me  again,  and  said  that  God 
told  her  I  had  some  money  for  her,  but  not  so 
much  as  before.  I  had,  a  few  days  previous, 
received  the  net  proceeds  of  one  pound  ten  shil- 
lings from  Europe  for  her.  To  say  the  least  there 
was  something  remarkable  in  these  facts,  whether 
clairvoyance,  or  the  divine  impression  on  her  mind 
from  the  source  of  all  power,  I  cannot  tell  ;  but 
certain  it  was  she  had  a  guide  within  herself  other 
than  the  written  word,  for  she  never  had  any  edu- 
cation. She  brought  away  her  aged  parents  in  a 
singular  manner.  They  started  with  an  old  horse, 
fitted  out  in  primitive  style  with  a  straw  collar,  a 
pair  of  old  chaise  wheels,  with  a  board  on  the  axle 
to  sit  on,  another  board  swung  with  ropes,  fastened 
to  the  axle,  to  rest  their  feet  on.  She  got  her  par- 
ents, who  were  both  slaves  belonging  to  different 
masters,  on  this  rude  vehicle  to  the  railroad,  put 
them  in  the  cars,  turned  Jehu  herself,  and  drove  to 


88  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

town  in  a  style  that  no  human  being  ever  did  be- 
fore or  since  ;  but  she  was  happy  at  having  arrived 
safe.  Next  day,  I  furnished  her  with  money  to 
take  them  all  to  Canada.  1  afterward  sold  their 
horse,  and  sent  them  the  balance  of  the  proceeds. 
I  believe  that  Harriet  succeeded  in  freeing  all  her 
relatives  but  one  sister  and  her  three  children. 
Etc.,  etc.  Thy  friend, 

Thos.  Garrett. 

*  Friend  Garrett  probably  refers  here  to  those  who 
passed  through  his  hands.  Harriet  was  obliged  to 
come  by  many  different  routes  on  her  different 
journeys,  and  though  she  never  counted  those 
whom  she  brought  away  with  her,  it  would  seem, 
by  the  computation  of  others,  that  there  must  have 
been  somewhat  over  three  hundred  brought  by  her 
to  the  Northern  States  and  Canada. 

As  I  have  before  stated,  with  all  Harriet's  reluc- 
tance to  ask  for  anything  for  herself,  no  matter 
how  great  her  needs  may  be,  no  such  scruples 
trouble  her  if  any  of  her  people  are  in  need.  She 
never  hesitates  to  call  upon  her  kind  friends  in 
Auburn  and  in  other  places  for  help  when  her  peo- 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  89 

pie  are  in  want.  At  one  time,  when  some  such 
emergency  had  arisen,  she  went  to  see  her  friend, 
Governor  Seward,  and  boldly  presented  her  case  to 
him. 

"  Harriet,"  he  said,  "  you  have  worked  for  others 
long  enough.  If  you  would  ever  ask  anything  for 
yourself,  I  would  gladly  give  it  to  you,  but  I  will 
not  help  you  to  rob  yourself  for  others  any 
longer." 

In  spite  of  this  apparent  roughness,  we  may  be 
sure  Harriet  did  not  leave  this  noble  man's  house 
empty  handed. 

And  here  I  am  reminded  of  a  touching  little 
circumstance  that  occurred  at  the  funeral  of  Secre- 
tary Seward. 

The  great  man  lay  in  his  coffin.  Friends,  chil- 
dren, and  admirers  were  gathered  there.  Every- 
thing that  love  and  wealth  could  do  had  been 
done  ;  around  him  were  floral  emblems  of  every 
possible  shape  and  design,  that  human  ingenuity 
could  suggest,  or  money  could  purchase.  Just  be- 
fore the  coffin  was  to  be  closed,  a  woman  black  as 
night  stole  quietly  in,  and  laying  a  wreath  of  field 
flowers  011   his  feet,  as   quietly  glided  out   again. 


90  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

This  was  the  simple  tribute  of  our  sable  friend,  and 
her  last  token  of  love  and  gratitude  to  her  kind 
benefactor.  I  think  he  would  have  said,  "  This 
woman  hath  done  more  than  ye  all." 

While  preparing  this  second  edition  of  Harriet's 
story,  I  have  been  much  pleased  to  find  that  that 
good  man,  Oliver  Johnson,  is  still  living  and  in  New 
York  City.  And  I  have  just  returned  from  a  very 
pleasant  interview  with  him.  He  remembers  Har- 
riet with  great  pleasure,  though  he  has  not  seen 
her  for  many  years.  He  speaks,  as  all  who  knew 
her  do,  of  his  entire  confidence  in  her  truthfulness 
and  in  the  perfect  integrity  of  her  character. 

He  remembered  her  coming  into  his  office  with 
Joe,  as  I  have  stated  it,  and  said  he  wished  he 
could  recall  to  me  other  incidents  connected  with 
her.  But  during  those  years,  there  were  such 
numbers  of  fugitive  slaves  coming  into  the  Anti- 
Slavery  Office,  that  he  might  not  tell  the  incidents 
of  any  one  group  correctly.  No  records  were 
kept,  as  that  would  be  so  unsafe  for  the  poor  crea- 
tures, and  those  who  aided  them.  He  said,  "  You 
know  Harriet  never  spoke  of  anything  she  had 
done,  as  if  it  was  at  all  remarkable,  or  as  if  it  de- 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  91 

served  any  commendation,  but  I  remember  one 
day,  when  she  came  into  the  office  there  was  a 
Boston  lady  there,  a  warm-hearted,  impulsive 
woman,  who  was  engaged  heart  and  hand  in  the 
Anti-Slavery  cause. 

Harriet  was  telling,  in  her  simple  way,  the  story 
of  her  last  journey.  A  party  of  fugitives  were  to 
meet  her  in  a  wood,  that  she  might  conduct  them 
North.  For  some  unexplained  reason  they  did  not 
come.  Night  came  on  and  with  it  a  blinding  snow 
storm  and  a  raging  wind.  She  protected  herself 
behind  a  tree  as  well  as  she  could,  and  remained 
all  night  alone  exposed  to  the  fury  of  the  storm. 

"Why,  Harriet !"  said  this  lady,  "didn't  you  al- 
most feel. when  you  were  lying  alone,  as  if  there 
was  no  God?"  "  Oh,  no  !  missus,"  said  Harriet, 
looking  up  in  her  child-like,  simple  way,  "I  jest 
asked  Jesus  to  take  keer  of  me,  an'  He  never  let 
me  git  frost-bitten  one  bit." 

'  In  i860  the  first  gun  was  fired  from  Fort  Sum- 
ter ;  and  this  was  the  signal  for  a  rush  to  arms  at 
the  North  and  the  South,  and  the  war  of  the  rebel- 
lion was  begun.  Troops  were  hurried  off  from  the 
North  to  the  West  and  the  South,  and  battles  raged 


92  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

in  every  part  of  the  Southern  States.  By  land  and 
by  sea,  and  on  the  Southern  rivers,  the  conflict 
raged,  and  thousands  and  thousands  of  brave  men 
shed  their  blood  for  what  was  maintained  by  each 
side  to  be  the  true  principle. 

This  war  our  brave  heroine  had  expected,  and 
its  result,  the  emancipation  of  the  slaves.  Three 
years  before,  while  staying  with  the  Rev.  Henry 
Highland  Garnet  in  New  York,  a  vision  came  to 
her  in  the  night  of  the  emancipation  of  her  people. 
Whether  a  dream,  or  one  of  those  glimpses  into 
the  future,  which  sometimes  seem  to  have  been 
granted  to  her,  no  one  can  say,  but  the  effect  upon 
her  was  very  remarkable. 

She  rose  singing,  " My  people  are  free /"  "My 
people  are  free !  "  She  came  down  to  breakfast 
singing  the  words  in  a  sort  of  ecstasy.  She  could 
not  eat.  The  dream  or  vision  filled  her  whole  soul, 
and  physical  needs  were  forgotten. 

Mr.  Garnet  said  to  her  : 

"  Oh,  Harriet !  Harriet !  You've  come  to  tor- 
ment us  before  the  time ;  do  cease  this  noise  !  My 
grandchildren  may  see  the  day  of  the  emancipa- 
tion of  our  people,  but  you  and  I  will  never  see  it." 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  93 

"  I  tell  you,  sir,  you'll  see  it,  and  you'll  see  it 
soon.     My  people  are  free  !      My  people  are  free." 

When,  three  years  later,  President  Lincoln's  proc- 
lamation of  emancipation  was  given  forth,  and 
there  was  a  great  jubilee  among  the  friends  of  the 
slaves,  Harriet  was  continually  asked,  "Why  do 
you  not  join  with  the  rest  in  their  rejoicing  !  " 
"  Oh,"  she  answered,  "  I  had  my  jubilee  three  years 
ago.  I  rejoiced  all  I  could  den  ;  I  can't  rejoice  no 
more." 

In  some  of  the  Southern  States,  spies  and  scouts 
were  needed  to  lead  our  armies  into  the  interior. 
The  ignorant  and  degraded  slaves  feared  the 
"Yankee  Buckra"more  than  they  did  their  own 
masters,  and  after  the  proclamation  of  President 
Lincoln,  giving  freedom  to  the  slaves,  a  person  in 
whom  these  poor  creatures  could  trust,  was  needed 
to  assure  them  that  these  white  Northern  men  were 
friends,  and  that  they  would  be  safe,  trusting  them- 
selves in  their  hands. 

In  the  early  days  of  the  war,  Governor  Andrew 
of  Massachusetts,  knowing  well  the  brave  and  saga- 
cious character  of  Harriet,  sent  for  her,  and  asked 
her  if  she  could  go  at  a  moment's  notice,  to  act  as  ■ 


94  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

spy  and  scout  for  our  armies,  and,  if  need  be,  to 
act  as  hospital  nurse,  in  short,  to  be  ready  to  give 
any  required  service  to  the  Union  cause. 

There  was  much  to  be  thought  of  ;  there  were 
the  old  folks  in  the  little  home  up  in  Auburn,  there 
was  the  little  farm  of  which  she  had  taken  the  sole 
care  ;  there  were  many  dependents  for  whom  she 
had  provided  by  her  daily  toil.  What  was  to 
become  of  them  all  if  she  deserted  them  ?  But  the 
cause  of  the  Union  seemed  to  need  her  services, 
and  after  a  few  moments  of  reflection,  she  deter- 
mined to  leave  all  else,  and  go  where  it  seemed 
that  duty  called  her. 

During  those  few  years,  the  wants  of  the  old 
people  and  of  Harriet's  other  dependents  were 
attended  to  by  the  kind  people  of  Auburn.  At 
that  time,  I  often  saw  the  old  people,  and  wrote 
letters  for  them  to  officers  at  the  South,  asking 
from  them  tidings  of  Harriet.  I  received  many 
letters  in  reply,  all  testifying  to  her  faithfulness 
and  bravery,  and  her  untiring  zeal  for  the  welfare 
of  our  soldiers,  black  and  white.  She  was  often 
under  fire  from  both  armies  ;  she  led  our  forces 
through  the  jungle  and  the  swamp,  guided  by  an 


Harriet ',  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  95 

unseen  hand.  She  gained  the  confidence  of  the 
slaves  by  her  cheery  words,  and  songs,  and  sacred 
hymns,  and  obtained  from  them  much  valuable 
information.  She  nursed  our  soldiers  in  the  hos- 
pitals, and  knew  how,  when  they  were  dying  by 
numbers  of  some  malignant  disease,  with  cunning 
skill  to  extract  from  roots  and  herbs,  which  grew  near 
the  source  of  the  disease,  the  healing  draught,  which 
allayed  the  fever  and  restored  numbers  to  health. 

It  is  a  shame  to  our  government  that  such  a 
valuable  helper  as  this  woman  was  not  allowed  pay*- 
or  pension  ;  but  even  was  obliged  to  support  her- 
self during  those  days  of  incessant  toil.  Officers 
and  men  were  paid.  Indeed  many  enlisted  from 
no  patriotic  motive,  but  because  they  were  insured 
a  support  which  they  could  not  procure  for  them- 
selves at  home.  But  this  woman  sacrificed  every- 
thing, and  left  her  nearest  and  dearest,  and  risked 
her  life  hundreds  of  times  for  the  cause  of  the 
Union,  without  one  cent  of  recompense.  She  re- 
turned at  last  to  her  little  home,  to  find  it  a  scene 
of  desolation.  Her  little  place  about  to  be  sold  to 
satisfy  a  mortgage,  and  herself  without  the  means 
to  redeem  it. 


96  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

«  Harriet  was  one  of  John  Brown's  "men."  His 
brave  and  daring  spirit  found  ready  sympathy  in 
her  courageous  heart ;  she  sheltered  him  in  her 
home  in  Canada,  and  helped  him  to  plan  his  cam- 
paigns. I  find  in  the  life  and  letters  of  this  re- 
markable man,  written  by  Mr.  F.  B.  Sanborn,  occa- 
sional mention  of  Harriet,  and  her  deep  interest  in 
Captain  Brown's  enterprises. 

At  one  time  he  writes  to  his  son  from  St.  Cathe- 
rine's, Canada : 

"  I  came  on  here  the  day  after  you  left  Rochester. 
I  am  succeeding  to  all  appearance  beyond  my  ex- 
pectations. Harriet  Tubman  hooked  on  her  whole 
team  at  once.  He  (Harriet)  is  the  most  of  a  man 
naturally  that  I  ever  met  with.  There  is  abundant 
material  here  and  of  the  right  quality."  She  sug- 
gested the  4th  of  July  to  him  as  the  time  to  begin 
operations.  And  Mr.  Sanborn  adds  :  "  It  was  about 
the  4th  of  July,  as  Harriet,  the  African  sybil,  had 
suggested,  that  Brown  first  showed  himself  in  the 
counties  of  Washington  and  Jefferson,  on  opposite 
sides  of  the  lordly  Potomac." 

I  find  among  her  papers,  many  of  which  are  de- 
faced by  being  carried  about  with  her  for  years, 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.         97 

portions  of  these  letters  addressed  to  myself,  by 
persons  at  the  South,  and  speaking  of  the  valuable 
assistance  Harriet  was  rendering  our  soldiers  in  the 
hospital,  and  our  armies  in  the  field.  At  this  time 
her  manner  of  life,  as  related  by  herself,  was  this  : 

"  Well,  missus,  I'd  go  to  de  hospital,  I  would, 
early  eb'ry  mornin'.  I'd  get  a  big  chunk  of  ice,  I 
would,  and  put  it  in  a  basin,  and  fill  it  with  water ; 
den  I'd  take  a  sponge  and  begin.  Fust  man  I'd 
come  to,  I'd  thrash  away  de  flies,  and  dey'd  rise, 
dey  would,  like  bees  roun'  a  hive.  Den  I'd  begin 
to  bathe  der  wounds,  an'  by  de  time  I'd  bathed  off 
three  or  four,  de  fire  and  heat  would  have  melted 
de  ice  and  made  de  water  warm,  an'  it  would  be  as 
red  as  clar  blood.  Den  I'd  go  an'  git  more  ice,  I  * 
would,  an'  by  de  time  I  got  to  de  nex'  ones,  de 
flies  would  be  roun'  de  fust  ones  black  an'  thick  as 
eber."  In  this  way  she  worked,  day  after  day,  till 
late  at  night ;  then  she  went  home  to  her  little 
cabin,  and  made  about  fifty  pies,  a  great  quantity 
of  ginger-bread,  and  two  casks  of  root  beer.  These 
she  would  hire  some  contraband  to  sell  for  her 
through  the  camps,  and  thus  she  would  provide # 
her  support  for  another  day  ;  for  this  woman  never 
7 


98  Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

received  pay  or  pension,  and  never  drew  for  herself 
but  twenty  days'  rations  during  the  four  years  of 
her  labors.  At  one  time  she  was  called  away  from 
Hilton  Head,  by  one  of  our  officers,  to  come  to 
Fernandina,  where  the  men  were  "dying  off  like 
sheep,"  from  dysentery.  Harriet  had  acquired 
quite  a  reputation  for  her  skill  in  curing  this  dis- 
ease, by  a  medicine  which  she  prepared  from  roots 
which  grew  near  the  waters  which  gave  the  disease. 
Here  she  found  thousands  of  sick  soldiers  and 
contrabands,  and  immediately  gave  up  her  time 
and  attention  to  them.  At  another  time,  we  find 
her  nursing  those  who  were  down  by  hundreds  with 
small-pox  and  malignant  fevers.  She  had  never 
had  these  diseases,  but  she  seems  to  have  no  more 
fear  of  death  in  one  form  than  another.  "  De  Lord 
would  take  keer  of  her  till  her  time  came,  an'  den 
she  was  ready  to  go." 

When  our  armies  and  gun-boats  first  appeared 
in  any  part  of  the  South,  many  of  the  poor  negroes 
were  as  much  afraid  of  "  de  Yankee  Buckra  "  as  of 
their  own  masters.  It  was  almost  impossible  to  win 
their  confidence,  or  to  get  information  from  them. 
But  to  Harriet  they  would  tell  anything  ;  and  so  it 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  99 

became  quite  important  that  she  should  accompany 
expeditions  going  up  the  rivers,  or  into  unexplored 
parts  of  the  country,  to  control  and  get  information 
from  those  whom  they  took  with  them  as  guides. 

General  Hunter  asked  her  at  one  time  if  she 
would  go  with  several  gun-boats  up  the  Combahee 
River,  the  object  of  the  expedition  being  to  take 
up  the  torpedoes  placed  by  the  rebels  in  the  river, 
to  destroy  railroads  and  bridges,  and  to  cut  off 
supplies  from  the  rebel  troops.  She  said  she 
would  go  if  Colonel  Montgomery  was  to  be  ap- 
pointed commander  of  the  expedition.  Colonel 
Montgomery  was  one  of  John  Brown's  men,  and 
was  well  known  to  Harriet.  Accordingly,  Colonel 
Montgomery  was  appointed  to  the  command,  and 
Harriet,  with  several  men  under  her,  the  principal 
of  whom  was  J.  Plowden,  whose  pass  I  have,  ac- 
companied the  expedition.  Harriet  describes  in  the 
most  graphic  manner  the  appearance  of  the  planta- 
tions as  they  passed  up  the  river;  the  frightened  ne- 
groes leaving  their  work  and  taking  to  the  woods, 
at  sight  of  the  gun-boats  ;  then  coming  to  peer  out 
like  startled  deer,  and  scudding  away  like  the  wind 
at  the  sound  of  the  steam-whistle.     "Well,"  said 


IOO        Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

one  old  negro,  "  Mas'r  said  de  Yankees  had  horns 
and  tails,  but  I  nebber  beliebed  it  till  now."  But 
the  word  was  passed  along  by  the  mysterious  tele- 
graphic communication  existing  among  these  sim- 
ple people,  that  these  were  "  Lincoln's  gun-boats 
come  to  set  them  free."  In  vain,  then,  the  drivers 
used  their  whips  in  their  efforts  to  hurry  the  poor 
creatures  back  to  their  quarters  ;  they  all  turned 
and  ran  for  the  gun-boats.  They  came  down 
every  road,  across  every  field,  just  as  they  had 
left  their  work  and  their  cabins ;  women  with 
children  clinging  around  their  necks,  hanging  to 
their  dresses,  running  behind,  all  making  at  full 
speed  for  "  Lincoln's  gun-boats."  Eight  hundred 
poor  wretches  at  one  time  crowded  the  banks, 
with  their  hands  extended  toward  their  deliverers, 
and  they  were  all  taken  off  upon  the  gun-boats, 
and  carried  down  to  Beaufort. 

"  I  nebber  see  such  a  sight,"  said  Harriet ;  "we 
laughed,  an'  laughed,  an'  laughed.  Here  you'd 
see  a  woman  wid  a  pail  on  her  head,  rice  a  smokin' 
in  it  jus'  as  she'd  taken  it  from  de  fire,  young  one 
hangin'  on  behind,  one  han'  roun'  her  forehead  to 
hold  on,  'tother  han'  diggin'  into  de  rice-pot,  eatin' 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.         1 01 

wid  all  its  might ;  hold  of  her  dress  two  or  three 
more  ;  down  her  back  a  bag  wid  a  pig  in  it.  One 
woman  brought  two  pigs,  a  white  one  an'  a  black 
one  ;  we  took  'em  all  on  board ;  named  de  white  pig 
Beauregard,  and  de  black  pig  Jeff  Davis.  Some- 
times de  women  would  come  wid  twins  hangin' 
roun'  der  necks ;  'pears  like  I  nebber  see  so  many- 
twins  in  my  life  ;  bags  on  der  shoulders,  baskets 
on  der  heads,  and  young  ones  taggin'  behin',  all 
loaded ;  pigs  squealin',  chickens  screamin',  young 
ones  squallin'."  And  so  they  came  pouring  down 
to  the  gun-boats.  When  they  stood  on  the  shore, 
and  the  small  boats  put  out  to  take  them  off,  they 
all  wanted  to  get  in  at  once.  After  the  boats  were 
crowded,  they  would  hold  on  to  them  so  that  they 
could  not  leave  the  shore.  The  oarsmen  would 
beat  them  on  their  hands,  but  they  would  not  let 
go  ;  they  were  afraid  the  gun-boats  would  go  off 
and  leave  them,  and  all  wanted  to  make  sure  of  one 
of  these  arks  of  refuge.  At  length  Colonel  Mont- 
gomery shouted  from  the  upper  deck,  above  the 
clamor  of  appealing  tones,  "  Moses,  you'll  have 
to  give  em  a  song."  Then  Harriet  lifted  up  her 
voice,  and  sang: 


102        Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

1 '  Of  all  the  whole  creation  in  the  East  or  in  the  West, 
The  glorious  Yankee  nation  is  the  greatest  and  the  best. 
Come  along  !     Come  along  !    don't  be  alarmed, 
Uncle  Sam  is  rich  enough  to  give  you  all  a  farm." 

At  the  end  of  every  verse,  the  negroes  in  their 
enthusiasm  would  throw  up  their  hands  and  shout 
"Glory,"  and  the  row-boats  would  take  that  op- 
portunity to  push  off  ;  and  so  at  last  they  were  all 
brought  on  board.  The  masters  fled  ;  houses  and 
barns  and  railroad  bridges  were  burned,  tracks 
torn  up,  torpedoes  destroyed,  and  the  object  of  the 
expedition  was  fully  accomplished. 

This  fearless  woman  was  often  sent  into  the 
rebel  lines  as  a  spy,  and  brought  back  valuable 
information  as  to  the  position  of  armies  and  bat- 
teries ;  she  has  been  in  battle  when  the  shot  was 
falling  like  hail,  and  the  bodies  of  dead  and 
wounded  men  were  dropping  around  her  like 
leaves  in  autumn  ;  but  the  thought  of  fear  never 
seems  to  have  had  place  for  a  moment  in  her 
mind.  She  had  her  duty  to  perform,  and  she 
expected  to  be  taken  care  of  till  it  was  done. 

Would  that,  instead  of  taking  them  in  this  poor 
way  at  second-hand,  my  readers  could   hear  this 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.         1 03 

woman's  graphic  accounts  of  scenes  she  herself 
witnessed,  could  listen  to  her  imitations  of  negro 
preachers  in  their  own  very  peculiar  dialect,  her 
singing  of  camp-meeting  hymns,  her  account  of 
"experience  meetings,"  her  imitations  of  the  dances, 
and  the  funeral  ceremonies  of  these  simple  people. 
"Why,  der  language  down  dar  in  de  far  South  is 
jus'  as  different  from  ours  in  Maryland  as  you  can 
tink,"  said  she.  "  Dey  laughed  when  dey  heard 
me  talk,  an'  I  could  not  understand  dem,  no  how." 
She  described  a  midnight  funeral  which  she  at- 
tended ;  for  the  slaves,  never  having  been  allowed 
to  bury  their  dead  in  the  day-time,  continued  the 
custom  of  night  funerals  from  habit. 

The  corpse  was  laid  upon  the  ground,  and  the 
people  all  sat  round,  the  group  being  lighted  up 
by  pine  torches. 

The  old  negro  preacher  began  by  giving  out  a 
hymn,  which  was  sung  by  all.  "  An'  oh  !  I  wish 
you  could  hear  'em  sing,  Missus,"  said  Harriet. 
"  Der  voices  is  so  sweet,  and  dey  can  sing  ebery- 
ting  we  sing,  an'  den  dey  can  sing  a  great  many 
hymns  dat  we  can't  nebber  catch  at  all." 

The  old  preacher  began  his  sermon  by  pointing 


104        Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

to  the  dead  man,  who  lay  in  a  rude  box  on  the 
ground  before  him. 

"  Shum  ?  Ded-a-de-dah  !  Shunt,  David?  Ded- 
a-de-dah  !  Now  I  want  you  all  to  flee1  for  moment. 
Who  ob  all  dis  congregation  is  gwine  next  to  lie 
ded-e-de-dah  ?  You  can't  go  nowhere's,  my  frien's 
and  bredren,  but  Deff  '11  fin'  you.  You  can't  dig 
no  hole  so  deep  an'  bury  yourself  dar,  but  God 
A'mighty's  far-seem'  eye  '11  fin'  you,  an'  Deff  '11 
come  arter  you.  You  can't  go  into  that  big  fort 
(pointing  to  Hilton  Head),  an'  shut  yourself  up 
dar ;  dat  fort  dat  Sesh  Buckra  said  the  debil 
couldn't  take,  but  Deff  '11  fin'  you  dar.  All  your 
frien's  may  forget  you,  but  Deff  '11  nebber  forget 
you.  Now,  my  bredren,  prepare  to  lie  ded-a-de-dah ! " 

This  was  the  burden  of  a  very  long  sermon, 
after  which  the  whole  congregation  went  round  in 
a  sort  of  solemn  dance,  called  the  "  spiritual  shuf- 
fle," shaking  hands  with  each  other,  and  calling 
each  other  by  name  as  they  sang  : 

"  My  sis'r  Mary's  boun'  to  go  ; 
My  sis'r  Nanny's  boun'  to  go  ; 
My  brudder  Tony's  boun'  to  go  ; 
My  brudder  July's  boun'  to  go. " 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.         105 

This  to  the  same  tune,  till  every  hand  had  been 
shaken  by  every  one  of  the  company.  When  they 
came  to  Harriet,  who  was  a  stranger,  they  sang: 

Eberybody's  boun'  to  go  ! 

The  body  was  then  placed  in  a  Government 
wagon,  and  by  the  light  of  the  pine  torches,  the 
strange,  dark  procession  moved  along,  singing  a  rude 
funeral  hymn,  till  they  reached  the  place  of  burial. 
Harriet's  account  of  her  interview  with  an  old 
negro  she  met  at  Hilton  Head,  is  amusing  and  in- 
teresting. He  said,  "  I'd  been  yere  seventy-three 
years,  workin'  for  my  master  widout  even  a  dime 
wages.  I'd  worked  rain-wet  sun-dry.  I'd  worked 
wid  my  mouf  full  of  dust,  but  could  not  stop  to 
get  a  drink  of  water.  I'd  been  whipped,  an' 
starved,  an'  I  was  always  prayin',  '  Oh  !  Lord,  come 
an'  delibber  us  ! '  All  dat  time  de  birds  had  been 
flyin',  an'  de  rabens  had  been  cryin',  and  de  fish 
had  been  swimmin'  in  de  waters.  One  day  I  look 
up,  an'  I  see  a  big  cloud;  it  didn't  come  up  like  as 
de  clouds  come  out  far  yonder,  but  it  'peared  to  be 
right  ober  head.  Der  was  thunders  out  of  dat,  an' 
der  was  lightnin's.      Den  I   looked  down   on  de 


106        Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

water,  an'  I  see,  'peared  to  me  a  big  house  in  de 
water,  an'  out  of  de  big  house  came  great  big  eggs, 
and  de  good  eggs  went  on  trou'  de  air,  an'  fell  into 
de  fort ;  an'  de  bad  eggs  burst  before  dey  got  dar. 
Den  de  Sesh  Buckra  begin  to  run,  an'  de  neber 
stop  running  till  de  git  to  de  swamp,  an'  de  stick 
dar  an'  de  die  dar.  Den  I  heard  'twas  de  Yankee 
ship  *  firin'  out  de  big  eggs,  an  dey  had  come  to 
set  us  free.  Den  I  praise  de  Lord.  He  come  an' 
put  he  little  finger  in  de  work,  an  de  Sesh  Buckra 
all  go  ;  and  de  birds  stop  flyin',  and  de  rabens 
stop  cryin',  an'  when  I  go  to  catch  a  fish  to  eat  wid 
my  rice,  dey's  no  fish  dar.  De  Lord  A'mighty  'd 
come  and  frightened  'em  all  out  of  de  waters.  Oh  ! 
Praise  de  Lord  !  I  'd  prayed  seventy-three  years, 
an'  now  he  's  come  an'  we's  all  free." 

The  following  account  of  the  subject  of  this 
memoir  is  cut  from  the  Boston  Commonwealth  of 
1863,  kindly  sent  the  writer  by  Mr.  Sanborn: 

"  It  was  said  long  ago  that  the  true  romance  of 
America  was  not  in  the  fortunes  of  the  Indian, 
where  Cooper  sought  it,  nor  in  New  England 
character,  where  Judd  found  it,  nor  in  the  social 

*The  Wabash. 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.        1 07 

contrasts  of  Virginia  planters,  as  Thackeray  im- 
agined, but  in  the  story  of  the  fugitive  slaves. 
The  observation  is  as  true  now  as  it  was  before 
War,  with  swift,  gigantic  hand,  sketched  the  vast 
shadows,  and  dashed  in  the  high  lights  in  which 
romance  loves  to  lurk  and  flash  forth.  But  the 
stage  is  enlarged  on  which  these  dramas  are 
played,  the  whole  world  now  sit  as  spectators,  and 
the  desperation  or  the  magnanimity  of  a. poor 
black  woman  has  power  to  shake  the  nation  that 
so  long  was  deaf  to  her  cries.  We  write  of  one  of 
these  heroines,  of  whom  our  slave  annals  are  full 
— a  woman  whose  career  is  as  extraordinary  as  the 
most  famous  of  her  sex  can  show. 

"  Araminta  Ross,  now  known  by  her  married 
name  of  Tubman,  with  her  sounding  Christian 
name  changed  to  Harriet,  is  the  grand-daughter  of 
a  slave  imported  from  Africa,  and  has  not  a  drop 
of  white  blood  in  her  veins.  Her  parents  were 
Benjamin  Ross  and  Harriet  Greene,  both  slaves, 
but  married  and  faithful  to  each  other.  They  still 
live  in  old  age  and  poverty,*  but  free,  on  a  little 
property  at  Auburn,  N.  Y.,  which  their  daughter 


Both  dead  for  some 


years. 


108        Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

purchased  for  them  from  Mr.  Seward,  the  Secretary 
of  State.  She  was  born,  as  near  as  she  can  remem- 
ber, in  1820  or  in  182 1,  in  Dorchester  County,  on 
the  Eastern  shore  of  Maryland,  and  not  far  from 
the  town  of  Cambridge.  She  had  ten  brothers  and 
sisters,  of  whom  three  are  now  living,  all  at  the 
North,  and  all  rescued  from  slavery  by  Harriet,  be- 
fore the  War.  She  went  back  just  as  the  South 
was  preparing  to  secede,  to  bring  away  a  fourth, 
but  before  she  could  reach  her,  she  was  dead. 
Three  years  before,  she  had  brought  away  her  old 
father  and  mother,  at  great  risk  to  herself. 

"  When  Harriet  was  six  years  old,  she  was  taken 
from  her  mother  and  carried  ten  miles  to  live  with 
James  Cook,  whose  wife  was  a  weaver,  to  learn 
the  trade  of  weaving.  While  still  a  mere  child, 
Cook  set  her  to  watching  his  musk-rat  traps,  which 
compelled  her  to  wade  through  the  water.  It  hap- 
pened that  she  was  once  sent  when  she  was  ill  with 
the  measles,  and,  taking  cold  from  wading  in  the 
water  in  this  condition,  she  grew  very  sick,  and  her 
mother  persuaded  her  master  to  take  her  away 
from  Cook's  until  she  could  get  well. 

"  Another  attempt  was  made  to  teach  her  weav- 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.        1 09 

ing,  but  she  would  not  learn,  for  she  hated  her 
mistress,  and  did  not  want  to  live  at  home,  as  she 
would  have  done  as  a  weaver,  for  it  was  the  cus- 
tom then  to  weave  the  cloth  for  the  family,  or  a 
part  of  it,  in  the  house. 

"  Soon  after  she  entered  her  teens  she  was  hired 
out  as  a  field  hand,  and  it  was  while  thus  employed 
that  she  received  a  wound,  which  nearly  proved 
fatal,  from  the  effects  of  which  she  still  suffers.  In 
the  fall  of  the  year,  the  slaves  there  work  in  the 
evening,  cleaning  up  wheat,  husking  corn,  etc.  On 
this  occasion,  one  of  the  slaves  of  a  farmer  named 
Barrett,  left  his  work,  and  went  to  the  village  store 
in  the  evening.  The  overseer  followed  him,  and 
so  did  Harriet.  When  the  slave  was  found,  the 
overseer  swore  he  should  be  whipped,  and  called 
on  Harriet,  among  others,  to  help  tie  him.  She 
refused,  and  as  the  man  ran  away,  she  placed  her- 
self in  the  door  to  stop  pursuit.  The  overseer 
caught  up  a  two-pound  weight  from  the  counter 
and  threw  it  at  the  fugitive,  but  it  fell  short  and 
struck  Harriet  a  stunning  blow  on  the  head.  It 
was  long  before  she  recovered  from  this,  and  it  has 
left  her  subject  to  a  sort  of  stupor  or  lethargy  at 


IIO        Harriet)  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

times  ;  coming  upon  her  in  the  midst  of  conversa- 
tion, or  whatever  she  may  be  doing,  and  throwing 
her  into  a  deep  slumber,  from  which  she  will  pres- 
ently rouse  herself,  and  go  on  with  her  conversa- 
tion or  work. 

"  After  this  she  lived  for  five  or  six  years  with 
John  Stewart,  where  at  first  she  worked  in  the 
house,  but  afterward  'hired  her  time,'  and  Dr. 
Thompson,  son  of  her  master's  guardian,  'stood 
for  her,'  that  is,  was  her  surety  for  the  payment  of 
what  she  owed.  She  employed  the  time  thus  hired 
in  the  rudest  labors, — drove  oxen,  carted,  plowed, 
and  did  all  the  work  of  a  man, — sometimes  earning 
money  enough  in  a  year,  beyond  what  she  paid  her 
master,  'to  buy  a  pair  of  steers,'  worth  forty  dol- 
lars. The  amount  exacted  of  a  woman  for  her 
time  was  fifty  or  sixty  dollars — of  a  man,  one  hun- 
dred to  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  Frequently 
Harriet  worked  for  her  father,  who  was  a  timber 
inspector,  and  superintended  the  cutting  and  haul- 
ing of  great  quantities  of  timber  for  the  Baltimore 
ship-yards.  Stewart,  his  temporary  master,  was  a 
builder,  and  for  the  work  of  Ross  used  to  receive 
as  much  as  five  dollars  a  day  sometimes,  he  being 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.         1 1 1 

a  superior  workman.  While  engaged  with  her 
father,  she  would  cut  wood,  haul  logs,  etc.  Her 
usual  '  stint '  was  half  a  cord  of  wood  in  a  day. 

"Harriet  was  married  somewhere  about  1844,  to 
a  free  colored  man  named  John  Tubman,  but  she 
had  no  children.  For  the  last  two  years  of  slavery 
she  lived  with  Dr.  Thompson,  before  mentioned, 
her  own  master  not  being  yet  of  age,  and  Dr.  T.'s 
father  being  his  guardian,  as  well  as  the  owner  of 
her  own  father.  In  1849  the  young  man  died,  and 
the  slaves  were  to  be  sold,  though  previously  set 
free  by  an  old  will.  Harriet  resolved  not  to  be 
sold,  and  so,  with  no  knowledge  of  the  North — 
having  only  heard  of  Pennsylvania  and  New  Jersey 
— she  walked  away  one  night  alone.  She  found  a 
friend  in  a  white  lady,  who  knew  her  story  and 
helped  her  on  her  way.  After  many  adventures, 
she  reached  Philadelphia,  where  she  found  work 
and  earned  a  small  stock  of  money.  With  this 
money  in  her  purse,  she  traveled  back  to  Maryland 
for  her  husband,  but  she  found  him  married  to 
another  woman,  and  no  longer  caring  to  live  with 
her.  This,  however,  was  not  until  two  years  after 
her  escape,  for  she  does  not  seem  to  have  reached 


112        Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

her  old  home  in  the  first  two  expeditions.  In 
December,  1850,  she  had  visited  Baltimore  and 
brought  away  her  sister  and  two  children,  who  had 
come  up  from  Cambridge  in  a  boat,  under  charge 
of  her  sister's  husband,  a  free  black.  A  few  months 
after  she  had  brought  away  her  brother  and  two 
other  men,  but  it  was  not  till  the  fall  of  1851,  that 
she  found  her  husband  and  learned  of  his  infidelity. 
She  did  not  give  way  to  rage  or  grief,  but  collected 
a  party  of  fugitives  and  brought  them  safely  to 
Philadelphia.  In  December  of  the  same  year,  she 
returned,  and  led  out  a  party  of  eleven,  among 
them   her  brother  and   his  wife.     With  these  she 

^  journeyed  to  Canada,  and  there  spent  the  winter, 
for  this  was  after  the  enforcement  of  Mason's  Fugi- 
tive Slave  Bill  in  Philadelphia  and  Boston,  and 
there  was  no  safety  except   '  under  the  paw  of  the 

'  British  Lion,'  as  she  quaintly  said.  But  the  first 
winter  was  terribly  severe  for  these  poor  runaways. 
They  earned  their  bread  by  chopping  wood  in  the 
snows  of  a  Canadian  forest  ;  they  were  frost-bitten, 
hungry,  and  naked.  Harriet  was  their  good  angel. 
She  kept  house  for  her  brother,  and  the  poor 
creatures  boarded  with  her.     She  worked  for  them, 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.  1 13 

begged  for  them,  prayed  for  them,  with  the  strange 
familiarity  of  communion  with  God  which  seems 
natural  to  these  people,  and  cairied  them  by  the 
help  of  God  through  the  hard  winter. 

"  In  the  spring  she  returned  to  the  States,  and 
as  usual  earned  money  by  working  in  hotels  and 
families  as  a  cook.  From  Cape  May,  in  the  fall  of 
1852,  she  went  back  once  more  to  Maryland,  and 
brought  away  nine  more  fugitives. 

"  Up  to  this  time  she  had  expended  chiefly  her 
own  money  in  these  expeditions — money  which  she 
had  earned  by  hard  work  in  the  drudgery  of  the 
kitchen.  Never  did  any  one  more  exactly  fulfill 
the  sense  of  George  Herbert — 

"  '  A  servant  with  this  clause 
Makes  drudgery  divine.' 

"  But  it  was  not  possible  for  such  virtues  long  to 
remain  hidden  from  the  keen  eyes  of  the  Abolition- 
ists. She  became  known  to  Thomas  Garrett,  the 
large-hearted  Quaker  of  Wilmington,  who  has  aided 
the  escape  of  three  thousand  fugitives  ;  she  found 
warm  friends  in  Philadelphia  and  New  York,  and 
wherever  she  went.  These  gave  her  money,  which 
8 


I- 


114        Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

she  never  spent  for  her  own  use,  but  laid  up  for 
the  help  of  her  people,  and  especially  for  her  jour- 
neys back  to  the  'land  of  Egypt,'  as  she  called  her 
old  home.  By  reason  of  her  frequent  visits  there, 
always  carrying  away  some  of  the  oppressed,  she 
got  among  her  people  the  name  of  '  Moses,'  which 
it  seems  she  still  retains. 

'  "Between  1852  and  1857,  she  made  but  two  of 
these  journeys,  in  consequence  partly  of  the  in- 
creased vigilance  of  the  slave-holders,  who  had  suf- 
fered so  much  by  the  loss  of  their  property.  A 
great  reward  was  offered  for  her  capture  and  she 
several  times  was  on  the  point  of  being  taken,  but 
always  escaped  by  her  quick  wit,  or  by  '  warnings ' 
from  Heaven — for  it  is  time  to  notice  one  singular 
trait  in  her  character.  She  is  the  most  shrewd  and 
practical  person  in  the  world,  yet  she  is  a  firm  be- 
liever in  omens,  dreams,  and  warnings.  She  de- 
clares that  before  her  escape  from  slavery,  she 
used  to  dream  of  flying  over  fields  and  towns,  and 
rivers  and  mountains,  looking  down  upon  them 
'  like  a  bird,'  and  reaching  at  last  a  great  fence,  or 
sometimes  a  river,  over  which  she  would  try  to  fly, 
'  but  it  'peared  like  I  wouldn't  hab  de  strength,  and 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.         1 1 5 

jes  as  I  was  sinkin'  down,  dere  would  be  ladies  all 
drest  in  white  ober  dere,  and  dey  would  put  out 
dere  arms  and  pull  me  'cross.'  There  is  nothing 
strange  in  this,  perhaps,  but  she  declares  that  when 
she  came  North  she  remembered  these  very  places 
as  those  she  had  seen  in  her  dreams,  and  many  of 
the  ladies  who  befriended  her  were  those  she  had 
been  helped  by  in  her  vision. 

"  Then  she  says  she  always  knows  when  there  is 
danger  near  her — she  does  not  know  how,  exactly, 
but  '  'pears  like  my  heart  go  flutter,  flutter,  and  den 
dey  may  say  "  Peace,  Peace,"  as  much  as  dey  likes, 
/  know  its  gwine  to  be  war  !  '  She  is  very  firm  on 
this  point,  and  ascribes  to  this  her  great  impunity, 
in  spite  of  the  lethargy  before  mentioned,  which 
would  seem  likely  to  throw  her  into  the  hands  of 
her  enemies.  She  says  she  inherited  this  power, 
that  her  father  could  always  predict  the  weather, 
and  that  he  foretold  the  Mexican  war. 

u^In  1857  she  made  her  most  venturesome  jour- 
ney, for  she  brought  with  her  to  the  North  her  old 
parents,  who  were  no  longer  able  to  walk  such  dis- 
tances as  she  must  go  by  night.  Consequently  she 
must  hire  a  wagon  for  them,  and  it  required  all  her 


Il6        Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

ingenuity  to  get  them  through  Maryland  and  Del- 
aware safe.  She  accomplished  it,  however,  and  by 
the  aid  of  her  friends  she  brought  them  safe  to 
Canada,  where  they  spent  the  winter.  Her  account 
of  their  sufferings  there — of  her  mother's  complain- 
ing and  her  own  philosophy  about  it — is  a  lesson 
of  trust  in  Providence  better  than  many  sermons. 
But  she  decided  to  bring  them  to  a  more  comforta- 
ble place,  and  so  she  negotiated  with  Mr.  Seward 
— then  in  the  Senate — for  a  little  patch  of  ground. 
To  the  credit  of  the  Secretary  of  State  it  should  be 
said,  that  he  sold  her  the  property  on  very  favora- 
ble terms,  and  gave  her  some  time  for  payment.  To 
this  house  she  removed  her  parents,  and  set  herself 
to  work  to  pay  for  the  purchase.  It  was  on  this 
errand  that  she  first  visited  Boston — we  believe  in 
the  winter  of  1858-59.  She  brought  a  few  letters 
from  her  friends  in  New  York,  but  she  could  her- 
self neither  read  nor  write,  and  she  was  obliged 
to  trust  to  her  wits  that  they  were  delivered  to  the 
right  persons.  One  of  them,  as  it  happened,  was 
to  the  present  writer,  who  received  it  by  another 
hand,  and  called  to  see  her  at  her  boarding-house. 
It  was  curious  to  see  the  caution  with  which  she  re- 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.        1 1 J 

ceived  her  visitor  until  she  felt  assured  that  there 
was  no  mistake.  One  of  her  means  of  security 
was  to  carry  with  her  the  daguerreotypes  of  her 
friends,  and  show  them  to  each  new  person.  If 
they  recognized  the  likeness,  then  it  was  all  right. 

"  Pains  were  taken  to  secure  her  the  attention  to 
which  her  great  services  of  humanity  entitled  her, 
and  she  left  New  England  with  a  handsome  sum 
of  money  toward  the  payment  of  her  debt  to  Mr. 
Seward.  Before  she  left,  however,  she  had  several 
interviews  with  Captain  Brown,  then  in  Boston. 
He  is  supposed  to  have  communicated  his  plans  to 
her,  and  to  have  been  aided  by  her  in  obtaining  re- 
cruits and  money  among  her  people.  At  any  rate, 
he  always  spoke  of  her  with  the  greatest  respect, 
and  declared  that  '  General  Tubman,'  as  he  styled 
her,  was  a  better  officer  than  most  whom  he  had 
seen,  and  could  command  an  army  as  successfully 
as  she  had  led  her  small  parties  of  fugitives. 

"  Her  own  veneration  for  Captain  Brown  has 
always  been  profound,  and  since  his  murder,  has 
taken  the  form  of  a  religion.  She  had  often  risked 
her  own  life  for  her  people,  and  she  thought  nothing 
of  that ;  but  that  a  white  man,  and  a  man  so  noble 


Il8        Harriet^  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

and  strong,  should  so  take  upon  himself  the  bur- 
den of  a  despised  race,  she  could  not  understand, 
and  she  took  refuge  from  her  perplexity  in  the 
mysteries  of  her  fervid  religion. 

"  Again,  she  laid  great  stress  on  a  dream  which 
she  had  just  before  she  met  Captain  Brown  in  Can- 
ada. She  thought  she  was  in  '  a  wilderness  sort  of 
place,  all  full  of  rocks,  and  bushes,'  when  she  saw  a 
serpent  raise  its  head  among  the  rocks,  and  as  it 
did  so,  it  became  the  head  of  an  old  man  with  a 
long  white  beard,  gazing  at  her,  'wishful  like,  jes 
as  ef  he  war  gwine  to  speak  to  me,'  and  then  two 
other  heads  rose  up  beside  him,  younger  than  he, — 
and  as  she  stood  looking  at  them,  and  wondering 
what  they  could  want  with  her,  a  great  crowd  of 
men  rushed  in  and  struck  down  the  younger  heads, 
and  then  the  head  of  the  old  man,  still  looking  at 
her  so  '  wishful.'  This  dream  she  had  again  and 
again,  and  could  not  interpret  it ;  but  when  she 
met  Captain  Brown,  shortly  after,  behold,  he  was 
the  very  image  of  the  head  she  had  seen.  But  still 
she  could  not  make  out  what  her  dream  signified, 
till  the  news  came  to  her  of  the  tragedy  of  Har- 
per's Ferry,  and  then  she  knew  the  two  other  heads 


Harriet \  the  Moses  of  Her  People.         119 

were  his  two  sons.  She  was  in  New  York  at  that 
time,  and  on  the  day  of  the  affair  at  Harper's 
Ferry  she  felt  her  usual  warning  that  something 
was  wrong — she  could  not  tell  what.  Finally  she 
told  her  hostess  that  it  must  be  Captain  Brown 
who  was  in  trouble,  and  that  they  should  soon  hear 
bad  news  from  him.  The  next  day's  newspaper 
brought  tidings  of  what  had  happened. 

"  Her  last  visit  to  Maryland  was  made  after  this, 
in  December,  i860  ;  and  in  spite  of  the  agitated 
condition  of  the  country,  and  the  greater  watchful- 
ness of  the  slave-holders,  she  brought  away  .seven 
fugitives,  one  of  them  an  infant,  which  must  be 
drugged  with  opium  to  keep  it  from  crying  on  the 
way,  and  so  revealing  the  hiding-place  of  the 
party." 

In  the  spring  of  i860,  Harriet  Tubman  was  re- 
quested by  Mr.  Gerrit  Smith  to  go  to  Boston  to 
attend  a  large  Anti-Slavery  meeting.  On  her  way, 
she  stopped  at  Troy  to  visit  a  cousin,  and  while 
there  the  colored  people  were  one  day  startled 
with  the  intelligence  that  a  fugitive  slave,  by  the 
name  of  Charles  Nalle,  had  been  followed  by  his 
master  (who  was  his  younger  brother,  and  not  one 


120       Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

grain  whiter  than  he),  and  that  he  was  already  in 
the  hands  of  the  officers,  and  was  to  be  taken  back 
to  the  South.  The  instant  Harriet  heard  the  news, 
she  started  for  the  office  of  the  United  States 
Commissioner,  scattering  the  tidings  as  she  went. 
An  excited  crowd  was  gathered  about  the  office, 
through  which  Harriet  forced  her  way,  and  rushed 
up  stairs  to  the  door  of  the  room4  where  the  fugi- 
tive was  detained.  A  wagon  was  already  waiting 
before  the  door  to  carry  off  the  man,  but  the  crowd 
was  even  then  so  great,  and  in  such  a  state  of  ex- 
citement, that  the  officers  did  not  dare  to  bring  the 
man  down.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  street 
stood  the  colored  people,  watching  the  window 
where  they  could  see  Harriet's  sun-bonnet,  and 
feeling  assured  that  so  long  as  she  stood  there,  the 
fugitive  was  still  in  the  office.  Time  passed  on, 
and  he  did  not  appear.  "  They've  taken  him  out 
another  way,  depend  upon  that,"  said  some  of  the 
colored  people.  "No,"  replied  others,  "there 
stands  '  Moses  '  yet,  and  as  long  as  she  is  there,  he 
is  safe."  Harriet,  now  seeing  the  necessity  for  a 
tremendous  effort  for  his  rescue,  sent  out  some 
little  boys  to  cry  fire.     The  bells  rang,  the  crowd 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.        121 

increased,  till  the  whole  street  was  a  dense  mass  of 
people.  Again  and  again  the  officers  came  out  to 
try  and  clear  the  stairs,  and  make  a  way  to  take 
their  captive  down  ;  others  were  driven  down,  but 
Harriet  stood  her  ground,  her  head  bent  and  her 
arms  folded.  "  Come,  old  woman,  you  must  get 
out   of   this,"  said   one  of.  the  officers  ;  "  I  must 

v  have  the  way  cleared  ;  if  you  can't  get  down  alone, 
some  one  will  help  you."  Harriet,  still  putting  on 
a  greater  appearance  of  decrepitude,  twitched 
away  from  him,  and  kept  her  place.  Offers  were 
made  to  buy  Charles  from  his  master,  who  at  first 
agreed  to  take  twelve  hundred  dollars  for  him  ;  but 
when  this  was  subscribed,  he  immediately  raised 
the  price  to  fifteen  hundred.  The  crowd  grew 
more  excited.  A  gentleman  raised  a  window  and 
called  out,  "Two  hundred  dollars  for  his  rescue, 
but  not  one  cent  to  his  master  !  "  This  was  re- 
sponded to  by  a  roar  of  satisfaction  from  the 
crowd  below.  At  length  the  officers  appeared,  and 
announced  to  the  crowd,  that  if  they  would  open  a 

lane  to  the  wagon,  they  would  promise  to  bring  the 
man  down  the  front  way. 

The  lane  was  opened,  and  the  man  was  brought 


122        Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

out — a  tall,  handsome,  intelligent  white  man,  with 
his  wrists  manacled  together,  walking  between  the 
U.  S.  Marshal  and  another  officer,  and  behind  him 
his  brother  and  his  master,  %o  like  him  that  one 
could  hardly  be  told  from  the  other.  The  moment 
they  appeared,  Harriet  roused  from  her  stooping 
posture,  threw  up  a  window,  and  cried  to  her 
friends  :  "  Here  he  comes — take  him !"  and  then 
darted  down  the  stairs  like  a  wild-cat.  She  seized 
one  officer  and  pulled  him  down,  then  another,  and 
tore  him  away  from  the  man  ;  and  keeping  her 
arms  about  the  slave,  she  cried  to  her  friends  : 
"  Drag  us  out !  Drag  him  to  the  river  !  Drown 
him  !  but  don't  let  them  have  him  !"  They  were 
knocked  down  together,  and  while  down,  she  tore 
off  her  sun-bonnet  and  tied  it  on  the  head  of  the 
fugitive.  When  he  rose,  only  his  head  could  be 
seen,  and  amid  the  surging  mass  of  people  the 
slave  was  no  longer  recognized,  while  the  master 
appeared  like  the  slave.  Again  and  again  they 
were  knocked  down,  the  poor  slave  utterly  helpless, 
with  his  manacled  wrists,  streaming  with  blood.  * 
Harriet's  outer  clothes  were  torn  from  her,  and 
even   her  stout  shoes  were  pulled  from  her  feet, 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.         123 

yet  she  never  relinquished  her  hold  of  the  man, 
till  she  had  dragged  him  to  the  river,  where  he 
was  tumbled  into  a  boat,  Harriet  following  in  a 
ferry-boat  to  the  other  side.  But  the  telegraph  was 
ahead  of  them,  and  as  soon  as  they  landed  he  was 
seized  and  hurried  from  her  sight.  After  a  time, 
some  school  children  came  hurrying  along,  and  to 
her  anxious  inquiries  they  answered,  "  He  is  up  in 
that  house,  in  the  third  story."  Harriet  rushed  up 
to  the  place.  Some  men  were  attempting  to  make 
their  way  up  the  stairs.  The  officers  were  firing 
down,  and  two  men  were  lying  on  the  stairs,  who 
had  been  shot.  Over  their  bodies  our  heroine 
rushed,  and  with  the  help  of  others  burst  open  the 
door  of  the  room,  and  dragged  out  the  fugitive, 
whom  Harriet  carried  down  stairs  in  her  arms.  A 
gentleman  who  was  riding  by  with  a  fine  horse, 
stopped  to  ask  what  the  disturbance  meant ;  and 
on  hearing  the  story,  his  sympathies  seemed  to  be 
thoroughly  aroused ;  he  sprang  from  his  wagon, 
calling  out,  "  That  is  a  blood-horse,  drive  him  till 
he  drops."  The  poor  man  was  hurried  in  ;  some  of 
his  friends  jumped  in  after  him,  and  drove  at  the 
most  rapid  rate  to  Schenectady./ 


124       Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

This  is  the  story  Harriet  told  to  the  writer.  By- 
some  persons  it  seemed  too  wonderful  for  belief, 
and  an  attempt  was  made  to  corroborate  it.  Rev. 
Henry  Fowler,  who  was  at  the  time  at  Saratoga, 
kindly  volunteered  to  go  to  Troy  and  ascertain  the 
facts.  His  report  was,  that  he  had  had  a  long  in- 
terview with  Mr.  Townsend,  who  acted  during  the 
trial  as  counsel  for  the  slave,  that  he  had  given 
him  a  "rich  narration,"  which  he  would  write  out 
the  next  week  for  this  little  book.  But  before  he 
was  to  begin  his  generous  labor,  and  while  engaged 
in  some  kind  efforts  for  the  prisoners  at  Auburn, 
he  was  stricken  down  by  the  heat  of  the  sun,  and 
was  for  a  long  time  debarred  from  labor. 

This  good  man  died  not  long  after  and  the 
promised  narration  was  never  written,  but  a  state- 
ment by  Mr.  Townsend  was  sent  me,  which  I  copy 
here: 

Statements  7iiade  by  Ma?'tin  I.  Townsend,  Esq.,  of 
Troy,  who  was  counsel  for  the  fugitive,  Charles 
Nalle. 

Nalle  is  an  octoroon  ;  his  wife  has  the  same  in- 
fusion of  Caucasian  blood.  She  was  the  daughter 
of  her  master,  and  had,  with  her  sister,  been  bred 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.        125 

by  him  in  his  family,  as  his  own  child.  When  the 
father  died,  both  of  these  daughters  were  married 
and  had  large  families  of  children.  Under  the 
highly  Christian  national  laws  of  "  Old  Virginny," 
these  children  were  the  slaves  of  their  grandfather. 
The  old  man  died,  leaving  a  will,  whereby  he  manu- 
mitted his  daughters  and  their  children,  and  pro- 
vided for  the  purchase  of  the  freedom  of  their  hus- 
bands. The  manumission  of  the  children  and 
grandchildren  took  effect ;  but  the  estate  was  in- 
sufficient to  purchase  the  husbands  of  his  daugh- 
ters, and  the  fathers  of  his  grandchildren.  The 
manumitted,  by  another  Christian,  "  conservative," 
and  "  national  "  provision  of  law,  were  forced  to 
leave  the  State,  while  the  slave  husbands  remained 
in  slavery.  Nalle,  and  his  brother-in-law,  were 
allowed  for  a  while  to  visit  their  families  outside 
Virginia  about  once  a  year,  but  were  at  length 
ordered  to  provide  themselves  with  new  wives,  as 
they  would  be  allowed  to  visit  their  former  ones  no 
more.  It  was  after  this  that  Nalle  and  his  brother- 
in-law  started  for  the  land  of  freedom,  guided  by 
the  steady  light  of  the  north  star.  Thank  God, 
neither  family  now  need  fear  any  earthly  master  or 


126        Harriet)  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

the  bay  of  the  blood-hound  dogging  their  fugitive 
steps. 

Nalle  returned  to  Troy  with  his  family  about 
July,  i860,  and  resided  with  them  there  for  more 
than  seven  years.  They  are  all  now  residents  of 
the  city  of  Washington,  D.  C.  Nalle  and  his  family 
are  persons  of  refined  manners,  and  of  the  highest 
respectability.  Several  of  his  children  are  red- 
haired,  and  a  stranger  would  discover  no  trace  of 
African  blood  in  their  complexions  or  features.  It 
was  the  head  of  this  family  whom  H.  F.  Averill 
proposed  to  doom  to  returnless  exile  and  life-long 
slavery. 

When  Nalle  was  brought  from  Commissioner 
Beach's  office  into  the  street,  Harriet  Tubman,  who 
had  been  standing  with  the  excited  crowd,  rushed 
amongst  the  foremost  to  Nalle,  and  running  one 
of  her  arms  around  his  manacled  arm,  held  on  to 
him  without  ever  loosening  her  hold  through  the 
more  than  half -hour's  struggle  to  Judge  Gould's 
office,  and  from  Judge  Gould's  office  to  the  dock, 
where  Nalle's  liberation  was  accomplished.  In  the 
meele'e  she  was  repeatedly  beaten  over  the  head 
a  with  policemen's  clubs,  but  she  never  for  a  moment 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.        127 

released  her  hold,  but  cheered  Nalle  and  his  friends      f 
with  her  voice,  and  struggled  with  the  officers  un- 
til  they  were  literally  worn  out  with  their  exer- 
tions, and  Nalle  was  separated  from  them. 

True,  she  had  strong  and  earnest  helpers  in  her 
struggle,  some  of  whom  had  white  faces  as  well  as 
human  hearts,  and  are  now  in  Heaven.  But  she 
exposed  herself  to  the  fury  of  the  sympathizers 
with  slavery,  without  fear,  and  suffered  their  blows 
without  flinching.  Harriet  crossed  the  river  with 
the  crowd,  in  the  ferry-boat,  and  when  the  men 
who  led  the  assault  upon  the  door  of  Judge  Stew- 
art's office  were  stricken  down,  Harriet  and  a 
number  of  other  colored  women  rushed  over  their 
bodies,  brought  Nalle  out,  and  putting  him  in  the 
first  wagon  passing,  started  him  for  the  West. 

A  lively  team,  driven  by  a  colored  man,  was  im- 
mediately sent  on  to  relieve  the  other,  and  Nalle 
was  seen  about  Troy  no  more  until  he  returned  a 
free  man  by  purchase  from  his  master.  Harriet 
also  disappeared,  and  the  crowd  dispersed.  How 
she  came  to  be  in  Troy  that  day,  is  entirely  un- 
known to  our  citizens ;  and  where  she  hid  herself 
after  the  rescue,  is  equally  a  mystery.     But  her 


128        Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

struggle  was  in  the  sight  of  a  thousand,  perhaps  of 
five  thousand  spectators. 

On  asking  Harriet  particularly,  as  to  the  age  of 
her  mother,  she  answered,  "Well,  I'll  tell  you, 
Missus.  Twenty-three  years  ago,  in  Maryland, 
I  paid  a  lawyer  five  dollars  to  look  up  the  will 
of  my  mother's  first  master.  He  looked  back 
sixty  years,  and  said  it  was  time  to  give  up.  I 
told  him  to  go  back  furder.  He  went  back  sixty- 
five  years,  and  there  he  found  the  will — giving  the 
girl  Ritty  to  his  grand-daughter  (Mary  Patterson), 
to  serve  her  and  her  offspring  till  she  was  forty- 
five  years  of  age."  This  grand-daughter  died 
soon  after,  unmarried;  and  as  there  was  no  pro- 
vision for  Ritty,  in  case  of  her  death,  she  was 
actually  emancipated  at  that  time.  But  no  one 
informed  her  of  the  fact,  and  she  and  her  dear 
children  remained  in  bondage  till  emancipated 
by  the  courage  and  determination  of  this  heroic 
H  daughter  and  sister.  The  old  woman  must  then, 
it  seems,  be  ninety-eight  years  of  age,*  and  the 
old  man  has  probably  numbered   as  many  years. 

*  This  was  written  in  the  year  '68,  and  the  old  people  both 
lived  several  years  after  that  time. 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People,        1 29 

And  yet  these  old  people,  living  out  beyond  the 
toll-gate,  on  the  South  Street  road,  Auburn,  come 
in  every  Sunday — more  than  a  mile — to  the  Cen- 
tral Church.  To  be  sure,  deep  slumbers  settle 
down  upon  them  as  soon  as  they  are  seated, 
which  continue  undisturbed  till  the  congregation 
is  dismissed  ;  but  they  have  done  their  best,  and 
who  can  doubt  that  they  receive  a  blessing.  Im- 
mediately after  this  they  go  to  class-meeting 
at  the  Methodist  Church.  Then  they  wait  for 
a  third  service,  and  after  that  start  out  home 
again. 

Harriet  supposes  that  the  whole  family  were 
actually  free,  and  were  kept  wrongfully  in  a  state 
of  slavery  all  those  long  years  ;  but  she  simply 
states  the  fact,  without  any  mourning  or  lament- 
ing over  the  wrong  and  the  misery  of  it  all,  ac- 
cepting it  as  the  will  of  God,  and,  therefore,  not 
to  be  rebelled  against. 

This  woman,  of  whom  you  have  been  reading, 
is  now  old  and  feeble,  suffering  from  the  effects  of 
her  life  of  unusual  labor  and  hardship,  as  well  as 
from  repeated  injuries ;  but  she  is  still  at  work  for 
her  people.  For  many  years,  even  long  before  the 
9 


130        Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People. 

war,  her  little  home  has  been  the  refuge  of  the 
hunted  and  the  homeless,  for  whom  she  had  pro- 
vided ;  and  I  have  seen  as  many  as  eight  or  ten 
dependents  upon  her  care  at  one  time  living 
there. 

It  has  always  been  a  hospital,  but  she  feels 
the  need  of  a  large  one,  and  only  prays  to  see 
this, ""  her  last  work,"  completed  ere  she  goes 
hence. 

Without  claiming  any  of  my  dear  old  Harriet's 
prophetic  vision,  I  seem  to  see  a  future  day  when 
the  wrongs  of  earth  will  be  righted,  and  justice, 
long  delayed,  will  assert  itself.  I  seem  to  see 
that  our  poor  Harriet  has  passed  within  "  one  of 
dem  gates,"  and  has  received  the  welcome, 
"Come,  thou  blessed  of  my  Father;  for  I  was 
hungry  and  you  gave  me  meat,  I  was  thirsty 
and  you  gave  me  drink,  I  was  a  stranger  and 
you  took  me  in,  naked  and  you  clothed  me,  sick 
and  in  prison  and  you  visited  me." 

And  when  she  asks,  "  Lord,  when  did  I  do 
all  this  ? "     He  answers  : 

"  Inasmuch  as  you  did  it  unto  one  of  the  least 
of  these,  my  brethren,  you  did  it  unto  me." 


Harriet,  the  Moses  of  Her  People.         131 

And  as  she  stands  in  her  modest  way  just 
within  the  celestial  gate,  I  seem  to  see  a  kind 
hand  laid  upon  her  dark  head,  and  to  hear  a 
gentle  voice  saying  in  her  ear,  "  Friend,  come  up 
higher  ! " 


APPENDIX. 


The  following  letters  to  the  writer  from  those  well- 
known  and  distinguished  philanthropists,  Hon.  Gerrit 
Smith  and  Wendell  Phillips,  and  one  from  Frederick 
Douglass,  addressed  to  Harriet,  will  serve  as  the  best 
introduction  that  can  be  given  of  the  subject  of  this 
memoir  to  its  readers  : 

Letter  from  Hon.  Gerrit  Smith. 

Peterboro,  June  13,  1868. 
My  Dear  Madame  :  I  am  happy  to  learn  that  you 
are  to  speak  to  the  public  of  Mrs,  Harriet  Tubman.  Of 
the  remarkable  events  of  her  life  I  have  no  personal 
knowledge,  but  of  the  truth  of  them  as  she  describes 
them  I  have  no  doubt. 

I  have  often  listened  to  her,  in  her  visits  to  my  family, 
and  I  am  confident  that  she  is  not  only  truthful,  but  that 
she  has  a  rare  discernment,  and  a  deep  and  sublime  phi- 
lanthropy. 

With  great  respect  your  friend, 

Gerrit  Smith. 


Letter  from    Wendell  Phillips. 

June  16,  1868. 
Dear  Madame:     The  last  time  I  ever  saw  John 
Brown  was  under  my  own  roof,  as  he  brought  Harriet 


1 34  Appendix. 

Tubman  to  me,  saying  :  "  Mr.  Phillips,  I  bring  you  one 
of  the  best  and  bravest  persons  on  this  continent — Gen- 
eral Tubman,  as  we  call  her." 

He  then  went  on  to  recount  her  labors  and  sacrifices  in 
behalf  of  her  race.  After  that,  Harriet  spent  some  time 
in  Boston,  earning  the  confidence  and  admiration  of  all 
those  who  were  working  for  freedom.  With  their  aid 
she  went  to  the  South  more  than  once,  returning  always 
with  a  squad  of  self-emancipated  men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren, for  whom  her  marvelous  skill  had  opened  the  way 
of  escape.  After  the  war  broke  out,  she  was  sent  with 
indorsements  from  Governor  Andrew  and  his  friends  to 
South  Carolina,  where  in  the  service  of  the  Nation  she 
rendered  most  important  and  efficient  aid  to  our  army. 

In  my  opinion  there  are  few  captains,  perhaps  few 
colonels,  who  have  done  more  for  the  loyal  cause  since 
the  war  began,  and  few  men  who  did  before  that  time 
more  for  the  colored  race,  than  our  fearless  and  most 
sagacious  friend,  Harriet. 

Faithfully  yours, 

Wendell  Phillips. 


Letter  from  Frederick  Douglass. 

Rochester,  August  29,  1868. 
Dear  Harriet  :  I  am  glad  to  know  that  the  story 
of  your  eventful  life  lias  been  written  by  a  kind  lady,  and 
that  the  same  is  soon  to  be  published.  You  ask  for  what 
you  do  not  need  when  you  call  upon  me  for  a  word  of 
commendation.  I  need  such  words  from  you  far  more 
than  you  can  need  them  from  me,  especially  where  your 


Appendix.  135 

superior  labors  and  devotion  to  the  cause  of  the  lately 
enslaved  of  our  land  are  known  as  I  know  them.  The 
difference  between  us  is  very  marked.  Most  that  I  have 
done  and  suffered  in  the  service  of  our  cause  has  been  in 
public,  and  I  have  received  much  encouragement  at 
every  step  of  the  way.  You,  on  the  other  hand,  have 
labored  in  a  private  way.  I  have  wrought  in  the  day — 
you  in  the  night.  I  have  had  the  applause  of  the  crowd 
and  the  satisfaction  that  comes  of  being  approved  by  the 
multitude,  while  the  most  that  you  have  done  has  been 
witnessed  by  a  few  trembling,  scarred,  and  foot-sore 
bondmen  and  women,  whom  you  have  led  out  of  the 
house  of  bondage,  and  whose  heartfelt  "  God  bless  you  " 
has  been  your  only  reward.  The  midnight  sky  and  the 
silent  stars  have  been  the  witnesses  of  your  devotion  to 
freedom  and  of  your  heroism.  Excepting  John  Brown — 
of  sacred  memory — I  know  of  no  one  who  has  willingly 
encountered  more  perils  and  hardships  to  serve  our  en- 
slaved people  than  you  have.  Much  that  you  have  done 
would  seem  improbable  to  those  who  do  not  know  you 
as  I  know  you.  It  is  to  me  a  great  pleasure  and  a  great 
privilege  to  bear  testimony  to  your  character  and  your 
works,  and  to  say  to  those  to  whom  you  may  come,  that 
I  regard  you  in  every  way  truthful  and  trustworthy. 
Your  friend, 

Frederick  Douglass. 


Extracts  from  a  Letter    written    by   Mr.    Sanborn, 
Secretary  of  the  Massachusetts  Board  of  State 
Charities. 
My  Dear  Madame  :   Mr.  Phillips  has  sent  me  your 


1 36  Appendix. 

note,  asking  for  reminiscences  of  Harriet  Tubman,  and 
testimonials  to  her  extraordinary  story,  which  all  her 
New  England  friends  will,  I  am  sure,  be  glad  to  fur- 
nish. 

I  never  had  reason  to  doubt  the  truth  of  what  Harriet 
said  in  regard  to  her  own  career,  for  I  found  her  singu- 
larly truthful.  Her  imagination  is  warm  and  rich,  and 
there  is  a  whole  region  of  the  marvelous  in  her  nature, 
which  has  manifested  itself  at  times  remarkably.  Her 
dreams  and  visions,  misgivings  and  forewarnings,  ought 
not  to  be  omitted  in  any  life  of  her,  particularly  those 
relating  to  John  Brown. 

She  was  in  his  confidence  in  1858-9,  and  he  had  a 
great  regard  for  her,  which  he  often  expressed  to  me. 
She  aided  him  in  his  plans,  and  expected  to  do  so  still 
further,  when  his  career  was  closed  by  that  wonderful 
campaign  in  Virginia.  The  first  time  she  came  to  my 
house,  in  Concord,  after  that  tragedy,  she  was  shown 
into  a  room  in  the  evening,  where  Brackett's  bust  of 
John  Brown  was  standing.  The  sight  of  it,  which  was 
new  to  her,  threw  her  into  a  sort  of  ecstacy  of  sorrow 
and  admiration,  and  she  went  on  in  her  rhapsodical 
way  to  pronounce  bis  apotheosis. 

She  has  often  been  in  Concord,  where  she  resided  at 
the  houses  of  Emerson,  Alcott,  the  Whitneys,  the  Brooks 
family,  Mrs.  Horace  Mann,  and  other  well-known  per- 
sons. They  all  admired  and  respected  her,  and  nobody 
doubted  the  reality  of  her  adventures.  She  was  too  real 
a  person  to  be  suspected.  In  1862,  I  think  it  was,  she 
went  from  Boston  to  Port  Royal,  under  the  advice  and 
encouragement  of  Mr.  Garrison,  Governor  Andrew,  Dr. 


Appendix.  137 

Howe,  and  other  leading  people.  Her  career  in  South 
Carolina  is  well  known  to  some  of  our  officers,  and  I 
think  to  Colonel  Higginson,  now  of  Newport,  R.  I.,  and 
Colonel  James  Montgomery,  of  Kansas,  to  both  of  whom 
she  was  useful  as  a  spy  and  guide,  if  I  mistake  not.  I 
regard  her  as,  on  the  whole,  the  most  extraordinary  per- 
son of  her  race  I  have  ever  met.  She  is  a  negro  of  pure, 
or  almost  pure  blood,  can  neither  read  nor  write,  and 
has  the  characteristics  of  her  race  and  condition.  But 
she  has  done  what  can  scarcely  be  credited  on  the  best 
authority,  and  she  has  accomplished  her  purposes  with  a 
coolness,  foresight,  patience  and  wisdom,  which  in  a 
white  man  would  have  raised  him  to  the  highest  pitch 
of  reputation. 

I  am,  dear  Madame,  very  truly  your  servant, 

F.  B.  Sanborn. 


Letter  from  Hon.   Wm.  H.  Seward. 

Washington,  July  25,  1868. 
Maj.-Gen.  Hunter — 

My  Dear  Sir  :  Harriet  Tubman,  a  colored  woman, 
has  been  nursing  our  soldiers  during  nearly  all  the  war. 
She  believes  she  has  a  claim  for  fiithful  services  to  the 
command  in  South  Carolina  with!  which  you  are  con- 
nected, and  she  thinks  that  you  v>vould  be  disposed  to 
see  her  claim  justly  settled. 

I  have  known  her  long,  and  a  nobler,  higher  spirit,  or 
a  truer,  seldom  dwells  in  the  human  form.     I  commend 
her,  therefore,  to  your  kind  and  best  attentions. 
Faithfully  your  friend, 

William  H.  Seward. 


138  Appendix. 

Letter  from  Col.  James  Montgomery . 
St.  Helena  Island,  S.  C,  July  6,  1863. 

Headquarters  Colored  Brigade. 
Brig. -Gen.  Gilmore,  Commanding  Department  of  the 
South — 
General  :  I  wish  to  commend  to  your  attention,  Mrs. 
Harriet  Tubman,  a  most  remarkable  woman,  and  in- 
valuable as  a  scout.     I  have  been  acquainted  with  her 
character  and  actions  for  several  years. 
I  am,  General,  your  most  ob't  servant, 

James  Montgomery,  Col.  Com.  Brigade. 


Letter  fr 0111  Mrs.  Gen.  A.  Baird. 

Peterboro,  Nov.  24,  1864. 
The  bearer  of  this,  Harriet  Tubman,  a  most  excellent 
woman,  who  has  rendered  faithful  and  good  services  to 
our  Union  army,  not  only  in  the  hospital,  but  in  various 
capacities,  having  been  employed  under  Government  at 
Hilton  Head,  and  in  Florida;  and  I  commend  her  to  the 
protection  of  all  officers  in  whose  department  she  may 
happen  to  be. 

She  has  been  known  and  esteemed  for  years  by  the 
family  of  my  uncle,  Hon.  Gerrit  Smith,  as  a  person  of 
great  rectitude  and  capabilities. 

Mrs.  Gen.  A.  Baird. 


Letter  from  Hon.  Gerrit  Smith. 

Peterboro,  N.  Y.,  Nov.  4,  1867. 
I  have  known  Mrs.  Harriet  Tubman  for  many  years. 


Appendix.  139 

Seldom,  if  ever,  have  I  met  with  a  person  more  philan- 
thropic, more  self-denying,  and  of  more  bravery.  Nor 
must  I  omit  to  say  that  she  combines  with  her  sublime 
spirit,  remarkable  discernment  and  judgment. 

During  the  late  war,  Mrs.  Tubman  was  eminently 
faithful  and  useful  to  the  cause  of  our  country.  She  is 
poor  and  has  poor  parents.  Such  a  servant  of  the 
country  should  be  well  paid  by  the  country.  I  hope" 
that  the  Government  will  look  into  her  case. 

Gerrit  Smith. 


Testimonial  from  Gerrit  Smith. 

Peterboro,  Nov.  22,  1864. 
The  bearer,  Harriet  Tubman,  needs  not  any  recom- 
mendation. Nearly  all  the  nation  over,  she  has  been 
heard  of  for  her  wisdom,  integrity,  patriotism,  and 
bravery.  The  cause  of  freedom  owes  her  much.  The 
country  owes  her  much. 

I  have  known  Harriet  for  many  years,  and  I  hold  her 
in  my  high  esteem.  Gerrit  Smith. 


Certificate  from    Henry  K.   Durrani,   Acting  Asst. 
Surgeon,  U.  S.  A. 

I  certify  that  I  have  been  acquainted  with  Harriet 
Tubman  for  nearly  two  years ;  and  my  position  as  Medi- 
cal Officer  in  charge  of  "  contrabands  "  in  this  town  and 
in  hospital,  has  given  me  frequent  and  ample  opportuni- 
ties to  observe  her  general  deportment;  particularly  her 
kindness  and  attention  to  the  sick  and  suffering  of  her 


140  Appendix. 

own  race.     I  take  much  pleasure  in  testifying  to  the 
esteem  in  which  she  is  generally  held. 

Henry  K.  Durrant, 
Acting  Assistant  Surgeon,  U.  S.  A. 
In  charge  "  Contraband  "  Hospital. 
Dated  at  Beaufort,  S.  C,  the  3d  day  of  May,  1864. 

I  concur  fully  in  the  above. 

R.  Saxton,  Brig.-Gen.  Vol. 


The  following  are  a  few  of  the  passes  used  by  Harriet 
throughout  the  war.  Many  others  are  so  defaced  that  it 
is  impossible  to  decipher  them. 

Headquarters  Department  of  the  South, 
Hilton  Head,  Port  Royal,  S.  C,  Feb.  19,  1863. 

Pass  the  bearer,  Harriet  Tubman,  to  Beaufort  and  back 
to  this  place,  and  wherever  she  wishes  to  go  ;  and  give 
her  free  passage  at  all  times,  on  all  Government  trans- 
ports. Harriet  was  sent  to  me  from  Boston  by  Governor 
Andrew,  of  Massachusetts,  and  is  a  valuable  woman. 
She  has  permission,  as  a  servant  of  the  Government,  to 
purchase  such  provisions  from  the  Commissary  as  she 
may  need.  D.  Hunter,  Maj.-Gen.  Com. 


General  Gilmore,  who  succeeded  General  Hunter  in 
command  of  the  Department  of  the  South,  appends  his 
signature  to  the  same  pass. 


Appendix.  141 

Headquarters  of  the  Department  of  the  South, 

July  1,  1863. 
Continued  in  force. 

Q.  A.  Gilmore,  Brig. -Gen.  Com. 


Beaufort,  Aug.  28,  1862. 
Will  Capt.  Warfield  please  let  "  Moses  "  have  a  little 
Bourbon  whiskey  for  medicinal  purposes. 

Henry  K.  Durant,  Act.  Ass.  Surgeon. 


War  Department,  Washington,  D.  C, 
March  20,  1865. 
Pass  Mrs.  Harriet  Tubman  (colored)  to  Hilton  Head 
and  Charleston,  S.  C,  with  free  transportation  on  a  Gov- 
ernment transport, 

By  order  of  the  Sec.  of  War. 

Louis  H.,  Asst.  Adj. -Gen.,  U.  S.  A. 
To  Bvt.  Brig. -Gen.  Van  Vliet,  U.  S.  Q.  M.,  N.  Y. 
Not  transferable. 


War  Department,  Washington,  D.  C, 
July  22,  1865. 
Permit  Harriet  Tubman  to  proceed  to  Fortress  Mon- 
roe, Va.,  on  a  Government  transport.     Transportation 
will  be  furnished  free  of  cost. 

By  order  of  the  Secretary  of  War. 

L.  H.,  Asst.  Adj. -Gen. 
Not  transferable. 


142  Appendix. 

Appointment  as  Nurse. 

Sir  :  I  have  the  honor  to  inform  you  that  the  Med- 
ical Director  Department  of  Virginia  has  been  instructed 
to  appoint  Harriet  Tubman  nurse  or  matron  at  the  Col- 
ored Hospital,  Fort  Monroe,  Va. 

Very  respectfully,  your  obdt.  servant, 

V.  K.  Barnes,  Surgeon-General. 
Hon.  Wm.  H.  Seward, 

Secretary  of  State,  Washington,  D.  C. 
Of  the  many  letters,  testimonials,  and  passes,  placed 
in  the  hands  of  the  writer  by  Harriet,  the  following  are 
selected  for  insertion  in  this  book,  and  are  quite  suffi- 
cient to  verify  her  statements. 

A  Letter  from  Gen.  Saxton  to  a  lady  of  Auburn. 
Atlanta,  Ga.,  March  21,  1868. 
My  Dear  Madame  :  I  have  just  received  your  letter 
informing  me  that  Hon.  Wm.  H.  Seward,  Secretary  of 
State,  would  present  a  petition  to  Congress  for  a  pen- 
sion to  Harriet  Tubman,  for  services  rendered  in  the 
Union  Army  during  the  late  war.  I  can  bear  witness 
to  the  value  of  her  services  in  South  Carolina  and  Flo- 
rida. She  was  employed  in  the  hospitals  and  as  a  spy. 
She  made  many  a  raid  inside  the  enemy's  lines,  display- 
ing remarkable  courage,  zeal,  and  fidelity.  She  was 
employed  by  General  Hunter,  and  I  think  by  Generals 
Stevens  and  Sherman,  and  is.  as  deserving  of  a  pension 
from  the  Government  for  her  services  as  any  other  of  its 
faithful  servants. 

I  am  very  truly  yours, 
Rufus  Saxton,  Bvt.  Brig. -Gen.,  U.  S.  A. 


Appendix.  143 

Rev.  Samuel  I.  May,  in  his  recollections  of  the  anti- 
slavery  conflict,  after  mentioning-  the  case  of  an  old  slave 
mother,  whom  he  vainly  endeavored  to  assist  her  son 
in  buying  from  her  master,  says  : 

"I  did  not  until  four  years  after  know  that  remarkable 
woman  Harriet,  or  I  might  have  engaged  her  services, 
in  the  assurance  that  she  would  have  bought  off  the  old 
woman  without  paying  for  her  inalienable  right — her 
liberty." 

Mr.  May  in  another  place  says  of  Harriet,  that  she  de- 
serves to  be  placed  first  on  the  list  of  American  heroines, 
and  then  proceeds  to  give  a  short  account  of  her  labors, 
varying  very  little  from  that  given  in  this  book. 

FUGITIVE  SLAVE  RESCUE  IN  TROY. 

From  the  Troy  Whig,  April  28,  1859. 

Yesterday  afternoon,  the  streets  of  this  city  and  West 
Troy  were  made  the  scenes  of  unexampled  excitement. 
For  the  first  time  since  the  passage  of  the  Fugitive  Slave 
Law,  an  attempt  was  made  here  to  carry  its  provisions 
into  execution,  and  the  result  was  a  terrific  encounter 
between  the  officers  and  the  prisoner's  friends,  the  tri- 
umph of  mob  law,  and  the  final  rescue  of  the  fugitive. 
Our  city  was  thrown  into  a  grand  state  of  turmoil,  and 
for  a  time  every  other  topic  was  forgotten,  to  give  place 
to  this  new  excitement.  People  did  not  think  last  even- 
ing to  ask  who  was  nominated  at  Charleston,  or  whether 
the  news  of  the  Heenan  and  Sayers  battle  had  arrived — 
everything  was  merged  into  the  fugitive  slave  case,  of 
which  it  seems  the  end  is  not  yet. 

Charles  Nalle,  the  fugitive,  who  was  the  cause  of  all 


144  Appendix. 

this  excitement,  was  a  slave  on  the  plantation  of  B.  W. 
Hansborough,  in  Culpepper  County,  Virginia,  till  the 
19th  of  October,  1858,  when  he  made  his  escape,  and 
went  to  live  in  Columbia,  Pennsylvania.  A  wife  and  five 
children  are  residing  there  now.  Not  long  since  he  came 
to  Sandlake,  in  this  county,  and  resided  in  the  family  of 
Mr.  Crosby  until  about  three  weeks  ago.  Since  that 
time,  he  has  been  employed  as  coachman  by  Uri  Gilbert, 
Esq.,  of  this  city.  He  is  about  thirty  years  of  age,  tall, 
quite  light-complexioned,  and  good-looking.  He  is  said 
to  have  been  an  excellent  and  faithful  servant. 

At  Sandlake,  we  understand  that  Nalle  was  often  seen 
by  one  H.  F.  Averill,  formerly  connected  with  one  of 
the  papers  of  this  city,  who  communicated  with  his  re- 
puted owner  in  Virginia,  and  gave  the  information  that 
led  to  a  knowledge  of  the  whereabouts  of  the  fugitive. 
Averill  wrote  letters  for  him,  and  thus  obtained  an  ac- 
quaintance with  his  history.  Mr.  Hansborough  sent  on 
an  agent,  Henry  J.  Wall,  by  whom  the  necessary  papers 
were  got  out  to  arrest  the  fugitive. 

Yesterday  morning  about  11  o'clock,  Charles  Nalle 
was  sent  to  procure  some  bread  for  the  family  by  whom 
he  was  employed.  He  failed  to  return.  At  the  baker's 
he  was  arrested  by  Deputy  United  States  Marshal  J.  W. 
Holmes,  and  immediately  taken  before  United  States 
Commissioner  Miles  Beach.  The  son  of  Mr.  Gilbert, 
thinking  it  strange  that  he  did  not  come  back,  sent  to 
the  house  of  William  Henry,  on  Division  Street,  where 
he  boarded,  and  his  whereabouts  was  discovered. 

The  examination  before  Commissioner  Beach  was  quite 
brief.    The  evidence  of  Averill  and  the  agent  was  taken, 


Appendix.  1 45 

and  the  Commissioner  decided  to  remand  Nalle  to  Vir- 
ginia. The  necessary  papers  were  made  out  and  given 
to  the  Marshal. 

By  this  time  it  was  two  o'clock,  and  the  fact  began  to 
be  noised  abroad  that  there  was  a  fugitive  slave  in  Mr. 
Beach's  office,  corner  of  State  and  First  Streets.  People 
in  knots  of  ten  or  twelve  collected  near  the  entrance, 
looking  at  Nalle,  who  could  be  seen  at  an  upper  window, 
William  Henry,  a  colored  man,  with  whom  Nalle  boarded, 
commenced  talking  from  the  curb-stone  in  a  loud  voice 
to  the  crowd.  He  uttered  such  sentences  as,  "  There  is  a 
fugitive  slave  in  that  office — pretty  soon  you  will  see  him 
come  forth.  He  is  going  to  be  taken  down  South,  and  you 
will  have  a  chance  to  see  him.  He  is  to  be  taken  to  the 
depot,  to  go  to  Virginia  in  the  first  train.  Keep  watch  of 
those  stairs,  and  you  will  have  a  sight."  A  number  of 
women  kept  shouting,  crying,  and  by  loud  appeals  excited 
the  colored  persons  assembled. 

Still  the  crowd  grew  in  numbers.  Wagons  halted  in 
front  of  the  locality,  and  were  soon  piled  with  spectators. 
An  alarm  of  fire  was  sounded,  and  hose  carriages  dashed 
through  the  ranks  of  men,  women,  and  boys  ;  but  they 
closed  again,  and  kept  looking  with  expectant  eyes  at 
the  window  where  the  negro  was  visible.  Meanwhile, 
angry  discussions  commenced.  Some  persons  agitated 
a  rescue,  and  others  favored  law  and  order.  Mr.  Brock- 
way,  a  lawyer,  had  his  coat  torn  for  expressing  his  sen- 
timents, and  other  melees  kept  the  interest  alive. 

All  at  once  there  was  a  wild  halloo,  and  every  eye 
was  turned  up  to  see  the  legs  and  part  of  the  body  of 
the  prisoner  protruding  from  the  second  story  window, 


146  Appendix. 

at  which  he  was  endeavoring  to  escape.  Then  arose  a 
shout !  "  Drop  him  !  "  "  Catch  him  ! "  "  Hurrah  !  "  But 
the  attempt  was  a  fruitless  one,  for  somebody  in  the  of- 
fice pulled  Nalle  back  again,  amid  the  shouts  of  a  hun- 
dred pairs  of  lungs.  The  crowd. at  this  time  numbered 
nearly  a  thousand  persons.  Many  of  them  were  black, 
and  a  good  share  were  of  the  female  sex.  They  blocked 
up  State  Street  from  First  Street  to  the  alley,  and  kept 
surging  to  and  fro. 

Martin  I.  Townsend,  Esq.,  who  acted  as  counsel  for  the 
fugitive,  did  not  arrive  in  the  Commissioner's  office  until 
a  decision  had  been  rendered.  He  immediately  went 
before  Judge  Gould,  of  the  Supreme  Court,  and  procured 
a  writ  of  habeas  corpus  in  the  usual  form,  returnable 
immediately.  This  was  given  Deputy-Sheriff  Nathaniel 
Upham,  who  at  once  proceeded  to  Commissioner  Beach's 
office,  and  served  it  on  Holmes.  Very  injudiciously,  the 
officers  proceeded  at  once  to  Judge  Gould's  office,  al- 
though it  was  evident  they  would  have  to  pass  through 
an  excited,  unreasonable  crowd.  As  soon  as  the  officers 
and  their  prisoner  emerged  from  the  door,  an  old  negro, 
who  had  been  standing  at  the  bottom  of  the  stairs, 
shouted,  "  Here  they  come,"  and  the  crowd  made  a  ter- 
rific rush  at  the  party. 

From  the  office  of  Commissioner  Beach,  in  the  Mutual 
Building,  to  that  of  Judge  Gould,  in  Congress  Street,  is 
less  than  two  blocks,  but  it  was  made  a  regular  battle- 
field. The  moment  the  prisoner  emerged  from  the  door- 
way, in  custody  of  Deputy-Sheriff  Upham,  Chief  of  Police 
Ouin,  Officers  Cleveland  and  Holmes,  the  crowd  made 
one  grand  charge,  and  those  nearest  the  prisoner  seized 


Appendix.  147 

him  violently,  with  the  intention  of  pulling  him  away 
from  the  officers,  but  they  were  foiled  ;  and  down  First 
to  Congress  Street,  and  up  the  latter  in  front  of  Judge 
Gould's  chambers,  went  the  surging  mass.  Exactly  what 
did  go  on  in  the  crowd,  it  is  impossible  to  say,  but  the 
pulling,  hauling,  mauling,  and  shouting,  gave  evidences 
of  frantic  efforts  on  the  part  of  the  rescuers,  and  a  stern 
resistance  from  the  conservators  of  the  law.  In  front  of 
Judge  Gould's  office  the  combat  was  at  its  height.  No 
stones  or  other  missiles  were  used  ;  the  battle  was  fist  to 
fist.  We  believe  an  order  was  given  to  take  the  prisoner 
the  other  way,  and  there  was  a  grand  rush  towards  the 
West,  past  First  and  River  Streets,  as  far  as  Dock  Street. 
All  this  time  there  was  a  continual  melee.  Many  of  the 
officers  were  hurt — among  them  Mr.  Upham,  whose  ob- 
ject was  solely  to  do  his  duty  by  taking  Nalle  before  Judge 
Gould  in  accordance  with  the  writ  of  habeas  corpus.  A 
number  in  the  crowd  were  more  or  less  hurt,  and  it  is  a 
wonder  that  these  were  not  badly  injured,  as  pistols  were 
drawn  and  chisels  used. 

The  battle  had  raged  as  far  as  the  corner  of  Dock  and 
Congress  Streets,  and  the  victory  remained  with  the 
rescuers  at  last.  The  officers  were  completely  worn  out 
with  their  exertions,  and  it  was  impossible  to  continue 
their  hold  upon  him  any  longer.  Nalle  was  at  liberty. 
His  friends  rushed  him  down  Dock  Street  to  the  lower 
ferry,  where  there  was  a  skiff  lying  ready  to  start.  The 
fugitive  was  put  in,  the  ferryman  rowed  off,  and  amid 
the  shouts  of  hundreds  who  lined  the  banks  of  the  river, 
Nalle  was  carried  into  Albany  County. 

As  the  skiff  landed  in  West  Troy,  a  negro  sympathizer 


148  Appendix. 

waded  up  to  the  waist,  and  pulled  Nalle  out  of  the  boat. 
He  went  up  the  hill  alone,  however,  and  there  who 
should  he  meet  but  Constable  Becker  !  The  latter  official 
seeing  a  man  with  manacles  on,  considered  it  his  duty 
to  arrest  him.  He  did  so,  and  took  him  in  a  wagon  to 
the  office  of  Justice  Stewart,  on  the  second  floor  of 
the  corner  building  near  the  ferry.  The  justice  was 
absent. 

When  the  crowd  on  the  Troy  bank  had  seen  Nalle 
safely  landed,  it  was  suggested  that  he  might  be  recapt- 
ured. Then  there  was  another  rush  made  for  the  steam 
ferry-boat,  which  carried  over  about  400  persons,  and 
left  as  many  more — a  few  of  the  latter  being  soused  in 
their  efforts  to  get  on  the  boat.  On  landing  in  West 
Troy,  there,  sure  enough,  was  the  prisoner,  locked  up  in 
a  strong  office,  protected  by  Officers  Becker,  Brown  and 
Morrison,  and  the  door  barricaded. 

Not  a  moment  was  lost.  Up  stairs  went  a  score  or 
more  of  resolute  men — the  rest  "piling  in"  promis- 
cuously, shouting  and  execrating  the  officers.  Soon  a 
stone  flew  against  the  door — then  another — and  bang, 
bang  !  went  off  a  couple  of  pistols,  but  the  officers  who 
fired  them  took  good  care  to  aim  pretty  high.  The  as- 
sailants were  forced  to  retreat  for  a  moment.  "  They  've 
got  pistols,"  said  one.  "Who  cares?"  was  the  reply; 
"they  can  only  kill  a  dozen  of  us — come  on."  More 
stones  and  more  pistol-shots  ensued.  At  last  the  door 
was  pulled  open  by  an  immense  negro,  and  in  a  moment 
he  was  felled  by  a  hatchet  in  the  hands  of  Deputy-Sheriff 
Morrison  ;  but  the  body  of  the  fallen  man  blocked  up  the 
door  so  that  it  could  not  be  shut,  and  a  friend  of  the  pris- 


Appendix.  149 

oner  pulled  him  out.     Poor  fellow  !  he  might  well  say, 
"Save  me  from  my  friends."     Amid  the  pulling  and 
hauling,  the  iron  had  cut  his  arms,  which  were  bleeding 
profusely,  and  he  could  hardly  walk,  owing  to  fatigue. 
He  has  since  arrived  safely  in  Canada. 


THE    END. 


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